Evil's Shadow
by ForIHaveOvercomeTheWorld
Summary: Sequel to Gathering Clouds. Something bad is coming and Merlin and Arthur are completely unprepared for it. Evil is going to throw everything it has at Merlin to make him break. Arthur is going to have to rescue Merlin from evil, but will he want to after he learns a certain secret? Remember, the darkest hour is just before the dawn. Contains whump. No slash. Kinda dark.
1. The Beginning of The End

Here we go again. Chapter one in the third installment of the _Legendary Friendship_ series. I think I've finally decided what to call this series. Yay! Anyway, warnings: This story is going to be dark pretty much the whole time. It's depressing and the characters are miserable, though, I promise I'll make them happy again eventually. Also, whump as usual with me and there will be some torture, though, I don't want to over do it since that's basically what the first story was about. Mild swearing; I probably won't have it very often, just when I think it's necessary because that's how I'd react in that situation. A couple of classic bad guys bent on doing something evil. You know, the usual.

Summary: There are times in life when misfortune takes us completely by surprise. And then there are times when we can see evil's storm clouds on the horizon and know in our hearts that something bad is about to happen. Merlin and Arthur both know something is coming, but despite that they will be completely unprepared for it. Merlin is going to go through something terrible and Arthur is going to have to rescue him, that is, if he still wants to after he discovers a certain secret. Evil casts a pretty long shadow and will Merlin and Arthur be able to find their way through the dark? But remember, the darkest hour is just before the dawn.

_Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin and I have no desire to make a profit off of this story. This is all just for fun. _

So read, remember that everything I do I do for a reason, and hopefully enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 4: The Tempest

_Evil has left its mark on him, that is sure_

_For he does not deserve all he has had to endure._

_When shadows fall and lightening strikes,_

_his light will not shine tonight._

_For evil has surely taken hold_

_of the one of whom legends have been told._

_..._

Two people had dreams that night in the castle of Camelot and both of them were nightmares.

_..._

Arthur was running, running from something that he could not face. He kept dashing between trees and over hills and through valleys, but no matter how fast or far he ran it was never enough. He always ended up in the same place. Somehow, regardless of what direction he took, he always ended up...here.

Arthur came to an abrupt halt and panted heavily as his lungs felt like closing up. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the sight in front of him even though he desperately wanted to. It happened every time. He could never look away.

In front of Arthur were two figures, one kneeling and the other standing. And, as always, the sun began to rise and he was finally able to see exactly what he had been dreading. The standing figure drew his sword as Arthur tried and failed to move his feet. And then in one terrible moment the man plunged the sword into the chest of the one who was kneeling...Merlin.

Merlin gasped and choked and then fell, lifeless, to the ground, his dead eyes staring right at Arthur. And as the King stared in horror at the sight of his friend lying dead before him his murderer wiped his sword clean and walked over to him. The figure's face came into view and Arthur found that he wasn't as surprised as he'd thought he'd be.

The man, the one who had killed Merlin, was him. "You have to understand," the other, murderous Arthur said. "It had to be this way. He couldn't be allowed to live." His face and eyes were pleading but they had no affect on Arthur other than to make him angrier at this villain. "I did this for him and for us. There is no place for his kind in this world. I was merely sparing him the pain that was to come."

Arthur breathed heavily, his fists clenching in anger and hate. "You bastard!" he seethed. "He was your friend! Why would you kill him?" Tears formed into Arthur's eyes and his voice broke. "Why would you ever want to?"

The evil version of himself looked sad at this. "I know it's hard, but one day...one day you will thank me. This way you'll never have a chance to fail him. This way he won't have to suffer."

Arthur wanted to punch him, to kill him, but he still couldn't move. "So you think that you were doing him a favor?" he yelled in outrage.

The man just shook his head. "The clouds may be gone but the sky is still stormy overhead. You couldn't outrun seeing me kill your friend and you can't outrun fate. Are you really going to let it happen, Arthur?" he asked and the king felt confusion and surprise that this monster knew about the feeling of foreboding that had been hanging over his head lately. "Merlin has done so much for you and he is a greater man than our father, who taught you so many untruths and has created this vile world full of hate and pain. Don't you think he deserves a quick and painless death?" The man was imploring him now. "Don't you have to give him that? After all, you could never be friends with such as that."

"Such as what?" Arthur asked, a bit afraid to know. He should be ending the life of this hateful person, not chatting with it. If only his legs would listen to him...

"Oh, Arthur," his doppelganger said in an almost condescending tone as he grabbed him roughly by the shoulders. "It's time for you to come out of the shadows. You've been living in the dark for too long. The lies of lesser men have blinded you." He sighed. "And it is because of those lies that we could never be okay with _him_." He shrugged. "It's not our fault; it's just our nature. We were bred for exterminating the supposed evil." He started shaking his head emphatically. "And no matter how much you care for him you will _never_ be able to look past that. It will destroy you to kill him, but in the end you will do it because a part of you still does consider him your friend and you can't bear to see him in so much pain." He looked truly remorseful. "You know that he didn't choose it, but you can't help your instincts. You want the best for him even though you know that you could never see him the same way again."

A cool rush flowed through Arthur's veins and in a second control of his body was returned to him. He threw his twin's hands off him and before he knew what had happened his own were around the killer's throat. "You murdered Merlin!" Arthur yelled.

But even as he choked the other Arthur said, "You will, too, in the end. You'll see that it's for the best." And then with a chuckle the man disappeared from Arthur's grasp. And then the king heard a body-less voice say, "You know it's coming, Arthur. If you truly think Merlin your friend you'll end it now. Now, before the tempest strikes."

* * *

Arthur woke up panting and gasping and drenched in his own sweat. His head was pounding and his heart was racing. He glanced around at his dark room and tried to calm himself. "It's just a dream, it's just a dream," he breathed in-between gasps of air.

Eventually his breathing slowed some and the king was able to shake the worse of the after-effects of the nightmare. Slowly, he got out of his bed and shuffled over to the large pitcher of water sitting on a nearby table. After pouring some water into a basin and then wetting a wash cloth he wiped his face and neck, imagining as he did so that he was washing away the awfulness of the dream.

Unfortunately, he had been having the exact same nightmare a lot lately. Ever since regaining Camelot once more from Morgana three weeks ago he hadn't been able to get a good night's sleep. Of course, for a while he had been sharing his bed with Gwen and that had helped to calm him upon waking, but after noticing the circles underneath her eyes and realizing exactly how much sleep he was keeping from her he had gently demanded that she sleep somewhere else. He had only had her next to him for a few nights, but he had already begun to get used to her comforting presence by his side. In truth, he missed cuddling up next to her after a hard day, but his own tossing and turning and anguished cries had been worrying her and keeping her awake. Arthur wasn't about to let his nightmares cause both of them to lose sleep.

What Arthur couldn't understand was why? He rarely ever had dreams and nightmares were even more seldom. And yet every night now he was having this same horrible dream in which he was always running from something he could never outrun. Though Arthur had trouble admitting it even to himself, he was scared.

* * *

Merlin shuddered violently in his bed. He was having another nightmare and the terrified actions of his limbs were actually shaking his bed and making it creak.

"No!" he cried out and cracks appeared in his walls as in the distance thunder of his own making boomed. "Arthur!" Merlin screamed and his back arched in pain and his bed literally rose off the ground. A ball of fire materialized over the warlock's head. "No!"

Gaius burst into the room and his eyes bulged as they saw the state of everything. Books and clothes were flying everywhere and flames were appearing and disappearing without any warning. More cracks were spreading through the walls and the noise all of this was making was far too much for someone not to hear soon. "Merlin!" the physician yelled. When Merlin didn't wake up and his magic became even more wild Gaius attempted to rush forward, but he gasped in pain as one of the air-born flames burned his hand.

As soon as Gaius gasped Merlin's eyes snapped open and he and his bed fell. Merlin jerked upright and stared in confusion and horror at the books and other objects flying around the room, not to mention the other magical anomalies. Merlin's irises were burning gold.

Lightening that was so bright that it hurt Gaius' eyes flashed outside and a deafening roar of thunder pealed. "Merlin!" Gaius shouted. "You have to stop it!"

Merlin's delirious gaze met his guardian's and understanding dawned in his eyes. He stretched his hand out and looked like he was concentrating. A few of the floating fires vanished and the books stopped flying, but the storm outside kept raging.

Gaius made his way over to his ward and put his hand on his shoulder. "Merlin, calm your magic."

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm trying, Gaius," he said and the physician was surprised to hear that he sounded frightened. "I can't; there's too much of it."

Gaius felt his heart begin to race. Merlin never lost control of his magic like this. In fact, he doubted if anyone had a tighter lid on their magic than Merlin. Even when he was asleep he was always in control. "What do you mean, Merlin?" Gaius asked, afraid of the answer. If someone like Merlin lost his ability to keep a tight hold on his powers...

"It won't stop, Gaius!" Merlin said, clearly beginning to get frantic. The noise outside began to grow and wind started to howl like some terrible monster.

Never before had Gaius seen Merlin this unable to quell his powers. And perhaps even more surprising was the magnitude of the magic being displayed. The magic required to create a storm like the one outside, as well as nearly destroying Merlin's room, had to be astronomical. And that was all without Merlin consciously directing or driving it.

Something was clearly happening to his ward and Gaius was determined to find out what it was and stop it. But first Merlin had to put an end to this spree of uncontrolled magic.

Merlin had his hands clutching at his head and lines of pain and obvious effort were written all over his face. His breathing was becoming very erratic and Gaius guessed that the boy was freaking out right now. As scary as this was for him it had to be even more terrifying for the warlock who had never experienced anything like this. There was a good reason why Merlin refused to let his magic loose like this and it wasn't just to protect himself. The guardian and ward both knew how much damage his magic could cause.

Something clicked in Gaius' mind. More than anything Merlin's powers responded directly to his deepest fears and hopes and beliefs. In the end the boy's emotions would always win out.

Gaius grabbed Merlin and shook him, forcing him to look into his eyes. For a brief moment the pure gold that Gaius saw there distracted and frightened him, but he shrugged it off. "Merlin," Gaius said very seriously, "you have to listen to me." He could see that Merlin was paying attention to him and was pleading for something that would help him turn off his magic. "Merlin...if you don't stop, if you don't regain control," Gaius took a deep and steadying breath, "you are going to hurt people. Your magic is going to get people injured and killed."

He hated doing it. The old man knew all too well the guilt that weighed on the young boy's shoulders. And telling Merlin something like this would hurt him, but not as much as if this continued and someone really did get injured because of his magic.

Merlin's golden eyes turned pained and his shoulders seemed to deflate. Suddenly, the last few remaining objects that were in flight dropped. The booming and flashing outside stopped and the air seemed deathly quiet.

"Gaius...what's happening to me?" Merlin asked in a small voice.

The pain and confusion in his ward's tone felt like a knife to Gaius' heart. "I don't know, my boy," he answered, wishing he had something better to say.

Things had been getting worse for Merlin lately. He was getting even less sleep than usual and his magic had been strangely unruly when he did manage to get some sleep. Gaius had been especially worried for him these last couple of weeks.

"Gaius...I don't know if I can control it," Merlin said, fear reflected in his eyes. "Every day there seems to be...more of it." As if to emphasize his words his irises' turned a dull gold for a moment, though nothing in the room seemed to move. "Nothing like this has ever happened before. What could be causing it?" Merlin asked.

Gaius sat down on the bed next to his surrogate son. "I don't know. A spell, maybe? Perhaps one that Morgana cast on you?"

Merlin shook his head. "If Morgana knew I had magic she wouldn't cast just one spell or two." Merlin looked grim. "She'd do far worse."

Gaius inwardly sighed. There was another explanation that neither of them would like. "Maybe, Merlin, you're just getting stronger."

Fear flashed across Merlin's face. "What?! No," he began shaking his head so quickly that he looked like a dog, "no, no, no, no!" Suddenly candles flared and a chair in the room moved of his own accord and slammed into a wall.

Gaius reached forward and grabbed the warlock's hand. "Merlin! Calm down."

"No, no. You don't understand, Gaius," Merlin said frantically. "You have no idea how long it took me, how much effort, to learn to tame the magic I do have." He leaned forward earnestly. "There was a time, Gaius, when I was young that I had trouble controlling my magic. It was only after a long time and a lot of pain that I finally managed to learn how to suppress it." He glanced at all the cracks in his walls. "But if my hold over it vanishes then a lot of people could get hurt." Merlin looked back at his mentor. "Gaius...if it grows stronger then I can't promise that I'll be able to stop it."

* * *

"Was there any damage?" King Arthur asked. Arthur was sitting on his throne with Gwen by his side. He had finally had his sleep returned to him last night, only to be woken up a few hours later. He had been very surprised to learn that there had been a vicious storm in the night that had roused half the castle. Apparently his nightmare had been so captivating, in more ways than one, that it had kept him under all through the terrible racket of the storm.

From what he had been told he knew that the tempest, a word that reminded him of his dream and made him shudder every time he heard it, was second only to the magical storm that had plagued Camelot a few years ago.

Though Arthur himself had neither seen nor heard it, he knew enough to realize that he was just one of hundreds to have had a bad night. The people could use some reassuring that events weren't repeating themselves. Of course, in order to convince everyone of that he himself would have to be sure, which was why he had called this meeting.

"No, sire," Gaius said, "we believe that the storm was mostly kept overhead in the clouds. Some people are a bit shaken up, but no one was hurt."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. "Good." The king's eyes strayed to Merlin. His manservant had been acting weirder than normal as of late and right now he almost looked scared.

Ever since these bad dreams had started Arthur had been extra concerned about Merlin and he had kept a closer eye on him. If past experiences had taught Arthur anything it was that he needed Merlin to be alright all the time. Unfortunately, recently Merlin had been acting different and edgy and more tired than usual, which was causing Arthur to go throughout his day in almost a constant state of worry.

But Arthur couldn't think about Merlin right now. He had a whole kingdom to assure. He turned his attention back to Gaius. "And would you say it is likely that magic caused the storm?" he asked.

A loud clattering and clanging sounded from behind him and Arthur twisted in his throne to see a small table and some dishware that had fallen over. _Huh,_ Arthur thought,_ that's weird. No one is even near that table. Are the legs uneven, perhaps? _Arthur mentally shrugged and turned back around and focused on the physician.

Arthur noticed Gaius' careful and professional mask falter for a brief moment, but it was back in place again before the king was able to identify the emotions lying beneath. Out of the corner of his eye Arthur saw Merlin turn even paler, which truly came as a surprise because he hadn't thought it was possible to get any whiter, but he chose to dismiss it. He could trust Merlin and Gaius and if this was some sort of uncomfortable subject for them or they were hiding anything he doubted it was anything that he _needed_ to know for the sake of the kingdom. He respected Gaius too much to delve into his personal life, a trait he must have gotten from his father, and Merlin, well, considering how odd he had been acting, Arthur was sure that there were bigger problems than some storm. He would let their strange behavior go.

"It is possible, sire," Gaius answered, "but since there was hardly any damage I would not think it likely nor treat it as a threat. Though storms like the one last night are not common in Camelot, they are possible and I don't think that there is any reason to suspect magic."

Arthur felt his heart lighten at that. He really didn't want to deal with another magical threat right now. "That's good news, Gaius, thank you." He nodded gratefully. Sometimes he thought he'd be lost without Gaius in situations as these. Of course, Arthur depended on Merlin even more and if Gaius were to die or even just leave Camelot and retire then it would surely break Merlin. Arthur didn't just need Gaius for all things medical and magical, but also to keep his best friend and the person he relied upon the most to always be there afloat.

* * *

Arthur was in his room looking over some papers and absent-mindedly fingering his wedding band. Ever since that ring had first taken residence on his finger Arthur had been turning and playing with it whenever, even if it was in the back of his mind, he thought of or missed Gwen. Hardly an hour went by without him touching the ring and smiling as it reminded him of his love.

Merlin was in the room with him, cleaning, For a while now he had been debating whether or not to say anything to Merlin about his his recent behavior. Normally he would just ignore it, but with these dreams he had been having he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with his friend.

Arthur's vision blurred a bit as his eyes lids drooped. He sighed and straightened up from his slouched position looking down at his table of paper work and rubbed his face. He was so tired. But no matter how exhausted he got the dreams still came and he still woke up tireder than ever.

"The nightmares again?"

Arthur glanced over at Merlin who was looking at him with concern and sympathy. He had obviously noticed how beat he was. Arthur nodded resignedly. "They're getting worse, too." Merlin was one of the few people who knew about his difficulties sleeping. It wasn't something he exactly wanted people to know, and yet, oddly enough, he had told Merlin even before Gwen. Then again, despite his love for Guinevere and his desire to share everything with her, he just wasn't as used to opening up to her as he was to Merlin, a fact that he now found really very sad. He gazed at Merlin. As much as he hated to admit it Merlin was a very good listener and was very caring. "I just wish they'd go away so I could get some sleep," he said, trying to ignore the voice of prattiness in his head that told him telling all his problems to Merlin was girly.

Merlin put down the brush he had been scrubbing the floor with and stood up. "Maybe you need to talk to someone about it," he suggested, genuinely trying to be helpful, "perhaps talking them through would make them go away."

Arthur scoffed, not in mockery or dismissal, but rather because he didn't dare hope that would work. "If only things were that simple, Merlin. But if even Gaius' strongest potion didn't keep them from tormenting me then I doubt talking about it would help." He gave his friend a grateful look. "But perhaps hearing about someone else's problems would solve everything. What about you, Merlin? What's your excuse for not sleeping? Bad dreams or do you have too many chores?"

Though the words had sounded fine coming out, Arthur found himself stunned when he realized what he had said. Not only was he genuinely asking and caring about what was going on in Merlin's life, but he had also implied that the jobs he placed on the servant's shoulders might be too much and was even willing to lighten them if that were the case. In the past he would never admit that the workload he gave Merlin was too much because he couldn't handle the idea that he might be overworking his servant. But since these nightmares had started he had been remembering more and more how much Merlin mattered to him. Plus, the very thought that he could responsible for any problems in Merlin's life in anyway scared him because it was a reminder of that image he kept coming back to in his dreams. The image of him killing Merlin.

But as surprised as Arthur was by what he had just said, Merlin was even more so. The boy's mouth was hanging open like a fish and the look on his face was that of a child caught doing something wrong. It was almost as if Merlin was afraid to answer. "Um, no," Merlin stammered out. "I'm fine. But what about you, Arthur?" he eagerly changed the subject. "You're the king. You have to get the sleep you need. You never know, talking about it might work."

_What is wrong with Merlin?_ Arthur found himself thinking. _Doesn't he get that I just gave him a chance to get out of some of his chores? Who in their right mind would turn that down?_ Arthur studied Merlin's face for a moment. _Is he afraid of something? Is he...afraid of me?_ Arthur wasn't sure what was going on with his manservant. He was acting shifty and nervous and it was almost as if he was in pain. He was tense and it seemed like he was putting all his energy into something difficult, and it wasn't washing the floors. He looked depressed and the circles under his eyes rivaled even Arthur's own.

Maybe Arthur had to reach out to him further. Perhaps if he told him his dream then maybe the idiot would stop looking so..._ill. _"Perhaps you're right."

Merlin looked at him as if he wasn't he knew who was standing in front of him. "W-what?"

Arthur smiled a little to himself. If there was one thing he could count on Merlin for it was that he was bound to have interesting and funny reactions to pretty much everything. "So you're deaf, now? I said that maybe you had a good point. Besides, I know my bad dreams are worrying Gwen and since I'd do anything for her, I guess talking about them isn't that stupid of an idea, even if you came up with it." Merlin gave him a scowl. "And since I know you're _such_ a good listener that you probably won't hear a single thing I say," Arthur continued, "I might as well tell you."

Merlin jerked. "You're going to tell me?"

Arthur smirked condescendingly in the way that only he could. "Good to see that you're getting better with that whole 'hearing sounds' thing." As soon as the words came out Arthur started mentally kicking his own butt. It was far too easy for him to fall back into that same of routine of theirs. But none of his prattish words meant anything. The problem was that these days Merlin hardly responded at all when he showed him kindness or expressed any hint of friendship. It was almost as if the two of them had traded places. But his recent dreams had made him frighteningly aware of exactly how much he would regret were anything to happen to Merlin. So whether Merlin accepted it or not Arthur was going to treat Merlin the way he wanted to.

Arthur cleared his throat. "In a way it makes sense to tell you. After all, you're in my nightmares."

Merlin looked shocked at that. "I-I am?" he asked and Arthur couldn't help but wonder what was up with Merlin today. He was constantly repeating and questioning everything he said. Maybe he really was going deaf.

Arthur pulled up a chair and sat down. "Yeah, you are. It's the strangest thing. My dream begins with me running form something. I'm not being chased by anything, I simply can't face what's behind me. But no matter how far I run I always end up staring at the very thing I didn't want t see."

Merlin had sat down as well and was gazing at Arthur intently. "What is it?" he asked quietly.

As Arthur thought back to the numerous dreams he had had and the images that had been burned into his mind he felt tears come to his eyes. The tears that he desperately wanted to shed in the dream, but had never been able to. But Arthur swallowed them back. It was just a dream, he told himself once again. "I saw someone kill you, Merlin," Arthur answered and watched as a look of confusion, surprise, and pain overcame his expression.

Arthur got to his feet and walked over to a window. Dredging up the memories were harder than he had thought. They were always so vivid and his emotions so strong that just thinking about them made him dangerously close to breaking down and crying.

Merlin still hadn't said anything and Arthur got the feeling that the manservant had no idea what to say. Arthur didn't blame him.

"But the worst part," Arthur said, leaning his forehead against the unusually cold glass of the window, "the absolutely worst part is that...I can't stop it." Arthur voice broke and he paused for a second. "I've had this dream dozens of times now and every time, no matter what I do or how far I run...I can never, _never_ stop it. You die every time and I am always powerless to stop it." Arthur turned around to look at his friend. If anything was going to make Merlin open up to him and stop acting so skittish then it was this confession. Just saying those words had been nearly too much for Arthur, but if perhaps he could get Merlin to trust him then it would be worth it. "Do you have any idea what it's like to know that someone you care about is going to die...because of you and to know that nothing you do will ever change that?" Arthur asked. He didn't really expect an answer.

But Merlin, for his part, looked like he had seen a ghost. He was unbelievably pale and and he seemed scared. One hand drifted up towards his head as if it was paining him.

Merlin was really starting to worry Arthur. The servant wasn't looking at him, in fact, he didn't seem to be looking at anything at all and tears were streaming freely down his cheeks. "Merlin? Merlin, what's wrong?" Arthur inquired as he tentatively took a step forward. "Okay, fine. If you really want me to stop telling you stories then I will," Arthur joked without truly meaning it, but still hoping to get a response from Merlin.

Suddenly, every window and mirror in the room shattered in a burst as Merlin clutched his head and screamed.

_..._

_And will the daylight break again?_

_Who can say?_

_Over him evil has no sway._

_But his heart lies vulnerable and weak_

_because he is afraid that he will never have what he seeks._

_And so in these days as he remembers_

_evil will come to snuff out his light like dying embers._

* * *

So...first chapter. I guess I'm jumping back into to this again. Actually, I've been writing this chapter on and off for a couple of weeks, so in some ways it's like I never left. I hope everyone who liked my last story will like this one and I just want to say thank you again to everyone who has reviewed my works. Please enjoy, comment on anything and everything, and I'd like some reviews, because I'm a writer and we're always seeking approval for our work.

_"For I have overcome the world."_


	2. In Silence

So...I know it's been frightfully long since I updated this. I hate that it took this long, especially since the last chapter was the first one and I hate it when an author posts the first chapter but waits like three months before updating. My only defense is that many crazy and surreal things have been happening to be lately and I've been rather preoccupied. But thank you to all the people who read and reviewed and alerted the last chapter. I was very happy with the responses I got. Also, please point out any spelling and such mistakes because I didn't reread this because I figure you guys deserve this as soon as possible. And I really didn't want to.

* * *

Arthur stared down at the jagged piece of broken glass in his palm. It had been a week now since the day when he had confessed his dreams to Merlin and in response the boy had…well; Arthur still didn't know exactly what to call it. Once Merlin had fainted Arthur had rushed him to Gaius who, when asked to give a reason as to what had happened, had said rather lamely that Merlin was just ill and he should be better soon. But Arthur had seen that answer for what it was: a weak and fragile lie. After all, what sort of illness made a person grab their head and scream until they passed out?

Of course, Arthur wasn't going to push it because he knew how much Gaius cared for Merlin, which meant that there had to be a good reason for the lie. Arthur could understand Gaius' lying because he is insanely protective of Merlin and because he would never keep a secret if by doing so he put Camelot or even just one life in danger. But just because Arthur wasn't going to pester Gaius or call him out on his rather pathetic falsehood didn't mean that the not-knowing wasn't still eating him up inside. In fact, there were moments when Arthur had been sure he'd go crazy if he didn't get the true about what had happened to his manservant right away.

But Arthur had managed to tame his curiosity and raging concern.

Merlin had remained unconscious for two whole days, during which time Arthur had hardly slept or ate. Sure, Merlin had gotten sick or injured in the past and Arthur had had better control of himself then, but that was because he knew that Merlin was sick or injured. It was obvious that this time he was neither. Arthur had had no idea what was wrong with Merlin or how bad it was and every time his mind began to wander even a little bit towards Merlin he would hear that horrendous scream again and wonder for the millionth time what could possibly cause that and yet still be invisible.

Arthur had even begun to suspect that some sort of spell had been cast on Merlin. Granted, Arthur couldn't think of anyone with magic other than Morgana that could wish Merlin harm, and if she were nearby then surely she would do more than hurt a servant.

Finally, on the third day Merlin had woken up and Arthur had rushed over there as soon as he had heard. But after coming face to face with this new, awake Merlin, Arthur had almost wanted the unconscious one back. Merlin looked simply dreadful. His eyes seemed almost dead and lifeless and he was exhausted and Arthur couldn't see so much as a speck of color in his skin.

But worse than that was when Merlin had seen him. His eyes had gone wide with fear and he had actually scrambled backwards on his bed. Naturally the idiot had tried to cover his reaction by saying he had merely been startled, but Arthur hadn't been fooled.

For the next few days after that Arthur had visited Merlin every single chance he got, which included skipping his lunch one day. But it wasn't until the fifth day after Merlin's collapse that Arthur had witnessed something that made him stop coming altogether.

Arthur had come to see Merlin in the morning, right before a council meeting, and the weak-looking man had stood up as soon as the king had entered the room. Seeing how Merlin wobbled slightly, Arthur had rushed over and gently grabbed his arm to stable him. But Merlin had pulled back and stumbled away from Arthur, acting as if he had been burned, and the look of pure fear in his eyes had stunned Arthur.

Arthur had fled the room before he had even commanded his feet to do so and it was only after he had thought about it some that he had realized that the fear in Merlin's eyes hadn't been fear of him, but rather _for _him. It was as if, somehow, Merlin had been afraid of hurting Arthur just by touching him.

Despite the fact that Merlin's odd belief was completely ridiculous, unfounded, and one of the stupidest things to have ever existed, Arthur decided, for once in his life, to respect his wishes. Of course, there was no way that Merlin could or would hurt him, and certainly not with something as simple as a touch, but Arthur had seen what Merlin looked like and how ill he seemed. Perhaps the best thing, for the moment, would be to leave Merlin alone. Arthur didn't particularly like that idea, but in Merlin's current state maybe it was better to cater to him…a little bit.

So many things had changed over the years, Arthur had reflected only a few days ago. There had been a time when Arthur would never have put up with Merlin's irrational fear and would have continued visiting him to his heart's content. But as Arthur had thought about this fact he had begun to realize why things were different now. It was partially because of his recent dreams, it was partially because of all the experiences the two of them had shared over the years that had slowly opened his eyes to his true feelings, but most of it was what had happened a little over a month ago.

Morgana had once again taken Camelot, only this time things had looked even bleaker. Arthur had completely lost faith in himself and his ability to lead his people. After all, he seemed unable to tell friend from foe, he was in love with someone who had cheated on him and broken his heart, and everyone he cared about had gotten hurt in some way recently. Arthur had hit rock bottom and had given up.

But Merlin, that stupid, bumbling, unbelievable idiot had given him exactly what he needed to get on his feet, again. Arthur had looked into his eyes and had seen complete and utter trust and hope. Even after Arthur had doubted him once again, without any reason to, and as a result had gotten Gaius tortured, Merlin had still believed unwaveringly in him. And then Merlin had told him that story.

When Arthur had thought back on that moment when he had pulled the sword out of the stone later, after they had reclaimed Camelot, he had realized that it wasn't his own strength or destiny or belief in himself that had freed that weapon. Arthur had been and still was absolutely convinced that the reason he had taken possession of the sword was because of Merlin. It had been his belief in him, his hope his trust, his faith, that had given him the power necessary to do it. There was something about Merlin; a kind of strength that Arthur couldn't comprehend. Enough power, created by hope and love, to accomplish anything. In fact, most days he didn't even notice it unless he took a good look. And Arthur was positive that this quiet, unseen, unfathomable strength of Merlin's had been what had pulled the sword out of the stone. Whether just the pure power of Merlin's hope and faith had done it or whether it had empowered him to do so, Arthur wasn't sure, but it didn't matter.

Arthur sighed and leaned his forehead against the window of his room. He owed Merlin so much, more than he could ever say. If it hadn't been for Merlin's belief in him Camelot would still be under Morgana's control and Arthur himself would be somewhere moping. But instead, Arthur had stood tall and regained his kingdom, not because he believed in himself once more, but because he knew how much Merlin trusted him and he had sworn to himself then and there to not let him down. Merlin was the reason Camelot was no longer under tyrannical rule, and that was just the most recent of many things that Arthur owed him for. If he was truly honest with himself—something he tried not to be too often—then Arthur knew that he could never repay his debt because of how big it was.

Which was why whatever the hell had happened a week ago bothered him so much. He hadn't the faintest idea what was going on with Merlin and currently he wasn't sure he'd be able to look in his manservant's direction again without him freaking out. And so that was why, whenever these thoughts came circling back around in his head, Arthur took out the shard and stared at it as if mysteriously an answer would be provided.

This piece of glass was just one of many fragments of his window, which, as far as he knew, had shattered for absolutely no good reason. Of course, there was one theory that was nagging at him in the back of his mind, but it wasn't something Arthur was willing to dignify by even thinking about. It's just that…..the glass had exploded when Merlin had screamed, that table had been knocked over that day in the council chambers despite the fact that no one was anywhere near it, every time Arthur had visited Merlin there had been at least one object that had seemingly moved of its own accord and a lot of odd noises had sounded, and before Merlin had gone unconscious burn marks and dents had been seen on the walls of random hallways for weeks without any explanation. Arthur didn't know how much longer he could continue being oblivious to all these strange occurrences.

* * *

Merlin gasped and curled into himself as another wave of pain slammed into him. It burned like an unquenchable fire and Merlin found that, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't even scream. It was probably a good thing; the last thing he needed was for something to witness this.

Merlin groaned as the blaze lashed out one more time and bite viciously at his fragile walls before slowly subsiding. Merlin panted breathlessly and tried to rebuild his barriers in preparation for the next assault which, much like the tide came at him harshly in waves and burned and scorched and tore at him until he had hardly anything left, only to recede in order to strengthen its next attack. Merlin managed to hold it in every time, but only just.

Merlin slowly opened his swollen eyes and looked around him. He was in his room, sprawled on his bed; exactly where he had been for the last week or so. But it felt so much longer than a week. Ever since that dreadful day in Arthur's chambers Merlin had been in agony and nothing anyone did even lessened it.

It was his magic that was causing this pain. His magic had been growing stronger for weeks until it had suddenly burst forth, a hundred times more powerful and just howling to be released. It took all of Merlin's energy, willpower, and experience just to keep this disastrous and probably deadly power inside, but the cost of doing so was the indescribable pain that tore at his very being every second of every day. And though the pain sometimes lessened a bit as his magic grew tired and was unable to launch as brutal of an assault, the agony never truly disappeared.

But that pain, pain which clearly reminded him of every excruciating moment in his life—when he had been poisoned, when he had been tortured, when he had been stung by a Serket, when he had healed Arthur of the poison sting of a spider that fed on painful memories on their quest, when he had been infected with that magical illness that had nearly sucked the life from him, when the Dorocha had flown through him—was nothing, _nothing _in comparison to the agonizing knowledge that he now bore on his shoulders.

Merlin didn't care what it took, he would gladly endure this magical misery for the rest of his life, if it simply meant that what he now remembered with terrible clarity wasn't true.

_Merlin didn't know why but warning bells were going off in his head and he desperately did not want to hear Arthur's dream. But how could he tell his friend that? How could he just walk away when Arthur was clearly reaching out, something Merlin encouraged out of principle, and given that he probably _did_ need to tell his dreams to someone. _

_But the more Arthur said the more a disturbing feeling of déjà vu crept over him. He had already had a headache but now it was starting to get really bad. _

"_But the worst part," Merlin heard Arthur say, "the absolutely worst part is that...I can't stop it."_

_A flash of something screeched in Merlin's mind and he heard overlapping voices that he recognized but couldn't make out. Spikes of pain were shooting through his head and more than anything he wanted to run out of here and find some way to make whatever was happening stop. But Merlin couldn't think clearly enough as more blurry things streaked across his mind and he felt frozen in place. _

_"Do you have any idea what it's like to know that someone you care about is going to die...because of you and to know that nothing you do will ever change that?"_

_Merlin turned his gaze to Arthur, the king's words ringing in his ears. For a split second there was nothing, it was as if time had stopped. Then suddenly Merlin was no longer in Arthur's chambers in Camelot. He was standing in a spacious clearing and in front of him was someone he wished he had never met. _

"_Merlin," Kai said. "I told you this moment would come. I am so sorry, but it's time to remember. You must wake up from the dream to face the nightmare." Then Kai the centaur reached forward and touched Merlin's head. _

_Merlin remembered. He remembered everything he had been told and everything he had seen. Memories, images, and feelings rushed in Merlin's head. _

"Arthur will die...saving you."_ Merlin brought his hands up to his head, the pain and the weight of the memories crushing him. "_Nothing you can do will stop it."

_Merlin felt something inside him break as he was forced to remember the absolute last thing he would ever want to know. And as that something broke his magic burst forth, a towering wave a hungry fire. It was as if magic that he never even knew he had had been let loose. The memories crashed down on him, his mind felt like it would shatter, and his magic roared to life more powerful than ever before._

_Blackness overtook him and Merlin's last thought was that he couldn't save Arthur. And somewhere far away Kai lifted his head and knew that at long last, after several years, Emrys had remembered. _

Remembering what Kai had told him had nearly broken him completely. The idea, the thought that Arthur would die for him was unbearable. And perhaps even worse than that was the knowledge that Arthur would accept his magic. Arthur dying because of his magic was his worst nightmare. His whole he had been afraid of being discovered and since coming to Camelot he had become afraid of Arthur learning his secret and not accepting him. But those fears, as awful as they were, had been a constant in his life and he was almost immune to it.

But there was one fear that surpassed every worry and anxiety he had ever had. Inside of him there had always been a sliver of doubt. What if magic really and truly was completely evil? What if Uther was right and someday his heart would be filled with rage and cruelty? What if it was something he couldn't avoid or stop? What if one day he hurt or killed Arthur with his magic and proved once and for all that he is no better than the rest of his kind?

A ball of fire burst to life in midair and startled Merlin out of his thoughts. Merlin tried to push down and contain his magic and nearly groaned in pain because of the effort. He chastised himself. He couldn't afford to think of the prophecy because when he did his ability to dampen his magic weakened. Already half the things in Merlin's room had been destroyed by his magic.

In two days time Merlin was supposed to return to work, but the warlock had no idea how he was going to manage that. If he so much as tried to stand up straight his magic would flare to life in what was probably a very damaging and _noticeable_ way.

Arthur could never know now. Merlin didn't care what he had to do or what he sacrificed in the process, but he was going to make sure that prat lived a long and full life. Screw destiny. He couldn't accept the thought that Arthur would die.

He had already considered leaving Camelot for good, but that would require standing up first.

Merlin wished that there was something, anything that he could do to suppress his magic just enough so he could walk. He couldn't continue living with his magic so volatile. Eventually he would end up hurting someone and exposing himself. He needed answers as to what was happening to him. He needed to find a way to save Arthur. He needed to be able to stand up without fearing repercussions. But Merlin had no idea what to do; he felt so lost and confused. The one thing that had always been there for him, even if he couldn't' use it, had been his magic, and now that had betrayed him, too.

Suddenly something clicked in Merlin's mind. He should do what he always did when he felt out of options and answers. Kilgharrah.

* * *

Merlin waited in the clearing for Kilgharrah to arrive. Because it wouldn't exactly be a wise idea for him to call the dragon while he was still in the castle, he had merely reached out to him with his mind. Though normally that wouldn't work, Kilgharrah had been fairly close at the time and had answered him and agreed to meet. Merlin had felt the dragon's concern and had guessed that he had sensed that something was seriously wrong.

The act of getting in touch with that deep part of himself that, though he didn't properly understand, he was in complete and utter control of calmed his magic long enough for Merlin to sneak out of the castle, something that was laughably easy to him now, and get to the clearing.

Merlin glanced up as he heard the beat of large wings.

"Merlin," Kilgharrah said as he landed. "What is the matter? I have felt your distress for weeks now, but a couple of days ago I felt your magic scream and burst to life in a way it never has before. I tried to reach you, but you were shrouded in darkness. Had I not felt you emerge three days later I might have gone to drastic measures to discover what had happened to you. I couldn't sense your life presence anymore. So tell me, Merlin, what happened?"

Merlin had never heard Kilgharrah sound so concerned before. Whatever he had felt must have really terrified him. "Something happened to me," Merlin answered. "Five days ago Arthur said something to me that…made me remember."

The Great Dragon cocked his head to the side a little and asked with a snarl, "Remember what?" He was angry, but Merlin could tell that he wasn't angry at him, but rather at whatever he was going to say next.

Merlin felt his magic jump inside of him in response to the thought of the prophecy. Merlin saw Kilgharrah's golden eyes narrow and he got the impression that he had sensed his magic's movement. In order to conserve what little energy for holding back his magic that he had left, Merlin sat down on a nearby rock. Then he looked up at the great eyes, eyes that were still waiting for an answer and realized that there was no way he would be able to say what he had remembered if he was staring at those golden orbs, so he turned his face away to look at the surrounding forest. Then he told Kilgharrah what he had forgotten from that quest several years ago.

When Merlin had finished speaking the dragon's eyes turned orange as he snarled viciously and then lifted his head and roared at the sky. Merlin reacted instinctively and threw his hand up, just barely managing to erect a force field around the clearing so that the loud and obvious noise of a dragon wouldn't be heard by the rest of Camelot.

But as soon as Merlin let the field dissipate he cried out and crumpled in on himself as his magic tore at him mercilessly. He had let his wall down; let his magic come out and now he had no idea how to rebuild that wall. The pain was incredible and he could feel his eyes burning gold. It took every last ounce of strength to hold in the magic, but he didn't know how much longer it would last.

Suddenly Merlin felt warm breath hit him and even warmer magic flood his being. Together Merlin and this foreign but ultimately familiar magic worked and tamed his power and showed it back down.

Slowly Merlin lifted his head and looked up at Kilgharrah. The last of the intense pain from before was receding.

"I am sorry, Merlin," Kilgharrah said and he did sound truly remorseful, "it was foolish of me to lose my temper like that. I'm sorry that in order to keep us hidden here you had to release your tin hold on your magic. Before now I didn't understand how weak your grasp on it has become." The dragon glanced up at the sky. "Nor how powerful your magic has grown. Creating a field like the one you just did is no small magic, especially to be done instinctively and without a spell, which is what you did." Kilgharrah paused for a moment. "What has happened to your magic, Merlin?"

"My magic has always been strong, Kilgharrah, but now…it's stronger than ever," Merlin said and put his hand up to his chest. He could feel his magic thrumming beneath his skin like a second heartbeat. "And I can control it now; there's too much of it." Suddenly Merlin felt a surge of anger and whipped his gaze up to meet the dragon's. "And it's little wonder I can't control it, after all," Merlin practically spat, "this destiny, protecting Arthur, something I've been living for since I came to Camelot, is gone." Merlin's magic blew out of him in a burst of energy that didn't go anywhere in particular, but this time Merlin didn't try to calm it down. For the first time in weeks he and his magic were in perfect unison. They were angry.

Merlin advanced on the dragon. "It means nothing now, Kilgharrah. Nothing! This great destiny I was supposed to have is nothing more than a lie parents tell their children. Everything I've worked for is gone." Merlin's eyes blazed, but not with magic. "But you told me," he sharply pointed a finger to Kilgharrah, "you told me that everything I've done would mean something. That it was my destiny to protect Arthur. And now I've learned that in fact I'm going to be his death. No!" Merlin shouted. "I won't let that happen. I wish I'd never come to Camelot, that I'd never even met Arthur 'cause at least then he wouldn't end up sacrificing himself for me and my magic."

When Merlin was finished with his outburst he just stood there, glaring at Kilgharrah and panting; this was the most active he had been in a week. There was a deafening silence for moment until the dragon finally spoke up. "I am sorry, Merlin. I truly thought that protecting Arthur for the rest of his live was your duty; I didn't know that it was only up until a certain point." Merlin felt tears come into his eyes at that and looked away so that Kilgharrah wouldn't see them.

"But you must understand, Merlin," the dragon continued, "that not all is lost. Arthur may die, but that could be thirty years from now. Until then the golden age that has been prophesied may still happen. You and Arthur can still bring back magic. Everything you have dreamed of may still come true."

Merlin just shook his head. "Don't you get it, Kilgharrah? Everything I have done I didn't do for Albion, or because you told me to, or even to bring back magic. I did it all for Arthur. Keeping him safe is all that matters to me. And if I," Merlin paused here as a lump formed in his throat, "if I can't save him, especially from myself then….none of it matters at all." He shook his head again. "No, I'm not going to stay here just to get him killed. I'll leave; go far away."

"No, Merlin; you can't," Kilgharrah exclaimed and he almost sounded frantic, though Merlin couldn't be sure because he had never seen the composed dragon frantic before. "What if Arthur follows you and in doing so gets himself killed?" Panic flared up in Merlin's gut at that thought. "You're still Arthur's best chance of staying alive. You leave him and he could be killed by a sorcerer or a band of mercenaries or even something as simple as an illness you could have cured were you there. You leave Camelot now and you might as well be digging Arthur's grave."

Merlin ran his hands through his messy hair. Kilgharrah was right; he couldn't possibly leave now. But staying wasn't exactly a preferable option either. "I don't know how I can stay here, Kilgharrah," Merlin said, "I can hardly control my magic and if Arthur sees me use magic then I'll definitely have to leave to make sure that that knowledge won't get him killed. There's just so much of it. I've never had to deal with this much magic before."

The Great Dragon seemed to ponder that for a moment. "You're right; the last thing we need is for you to hurt someone, especially Arthur, with your magic. Though I can calm your powers, it is only temporary and you can't exactly be sneaking out here every couple of hours. But I might know a way to suppress your magic enough that you can be around people again."

Merlin's head shot up eagerly at that. "What? What is it?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Kilgharrah said, "but I can sense its magic on you. Merlin, do you possess or know of some sort of amulet, perhaps in the form of a necklace, that has protective magic?"

Merlin began to shake his head, but then stopped as he remembered something. "Wait…there was something that Mercy, a woman I met on that quest, gave to me. I had forgotten about it. But she told me that it was meant for protection."

"That must be what I feel on you," Kilgharrah said. "If you put it on, Merlin and wear it all the time it will suppress your magic because it can sense that the best way to protect you, which is its purpose, would be to keep your magic and to stop it from hurting anyone. If you wear it you should have control of your magic once again….but there is a price." The dragon didn't look particularly happy about it.

Merlin felt his heart sink. "Of course there is," he said. Why would he be given a break now?

"Your magic is a part of you, more so than you realize," Kilgharrah said. "It is incredibly powerful and it is not meant to be suppressed just as your body isn't meant to hold its breath for any considerable period of time. This necklace will restrain your magic like a dam, but the result of that will be a great deal of pain."Merlin's stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought of yet more pain. "I'm sorry, Merlin," the dragon continued and Merlin could tell that he really did feel sorry. "It will be quite unpleasant for you."

Merlin put his head in his hands for a moment. He was so tired of the struggle. It felt as he had been fighting for years and hadn't been given even a second of respite. It wasn't even the pain that he was tired of. Mostly he was just sick of everyone he loved being in danger. Of losing those that mattered more to him than his own life. Of always having to look over his shoulder and wonder if the kind person he was talking to was actually a sorcerer hoping to kill Arthur.

_When will it end?_ Never. That was the answer. If what Kai had told him was true then Merlin would never get a break; he would never be able to stop and just rest. He would always be on the lookout, wary for anything that might lead to Arthur giving his life for him. He would always be worrying, debating whether or not leaving Camelot and Arthur for good was the best option. He would never stop hating himself and his blasted magic that would get Arthur killed. Every waking moment for the rest of his life would be spent in emotional and, if his magic continued to defy control, physical agony. It wouldn't be until the day that Arthur finally did die that Merlin would get some peace, some rest. But when that day came, Merlin knew, he would no longer want to stop because with Arthur dead nothing would matter to him at all.

Merlin raised his head out of his hands. From this moment on his life was going to be hell with no hope of brighter days or of Arthur accepting him. Merlin could never let that happen now. "Alright," Merlin said staring back at Kilgharrah, "I understand."

Merlin began to turn away from him and head back to the castle, but Kilgharrah called, "Merlin, wait. We'll find something; some way to prevent Arthur's death and to help you control your magic once again. I promise that things won't be like this forever. We'll—"

"Go back to whatever your home is, Kilgharrah," Merlin said, cutting him off. He didn't even turn around to look him in the eye, but kept his back resolutely to him. "I don't need false hope."

"Merlin—" the Great Dragon tried again, trying to comfort him and make him believe that things would get better, but Merlin wouldn't let him.

Merlin's head whipped around and he dug down deep and yelled, "_Dikithy_!" he ordered in the Dragontongue. Then he turned away once more and started marching back alone towards Camelot.

* * *

As Kilgharrah felt himself obey the order to leave against his will, he didn't feel angry that Merlin had used his power just to shut him up. When Merlin had lifted his head up out of his hands he had seen something in his eyes that had terrified him. For the first time since he had known the warlock Kilgharrah hadn't seen so much as the fainted spark of hope or life in his eyes. There had been nothing but despair and an empty blackness.

Merlin had completely giving up. He wasn't living for a better future or the hope of a deeper friendship anymore. His only reason for living had become to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Merlin didn't believe that there was a chance to save Arthur.

Seeing that complete and utter lack of hope or optimism that had always been present in Merlin even during the darkest of times had scare Kilgharrah more than anything had in a long time. Merlin _was_ the hope. A light in the midst of great darkness. But what happens when the bringer of hope loses hope? Loses all belief in the very thing he had been trying to convince others of?

Kilgharrah didn't know what to do to fix this and bring back the old Merlin. But considering all the he had just learned about Arthur and Merlin's true destiny Kilgharrah wasn't even sure if it _was_ possible to get back. The only creatures in the history of the world to know more about destiny or to see and understand more than dragons were the Centaurs. He had thought that they had died out, but obviously not. If a centaur made a prophecy then it was going to happen no matter what forces, worldly or otherwise, tried to stop it from occurring.

Kilgharrah had believed for so long in Merlin and Arthur's destiny and in the Golden Age of Albion that to have that faith shattered now was devastating. That hope of such a bright future had been the only thing that had kept him going for those twenty years underneath that castle, through the grief of losing his whole species; all his kin. But as awful as it was for him now to have that hope taken away from him he knew that it was nothing compared to what Merlin was suffering right now.

Kilgharrah had known from the very beginning that Merlin wasn't protecting Arthur because destiny said so, but rather because he cared about him and would give his life for him. And the knowledge that his best friend would die saving him was beyond torture. Kilgharrah couldn't even imagine the pain this was causing him.

It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. Merlin didn't deserve this and Kilgharrah was going to do everything within his power to help Merlin and find a way to prevent the centaur's prophecy.

* * *

Merlin carefully closed his bedroom door so as to not wake Gaius. Merlin glanced over at the only light source in the room, which was a small candle that had almost been used up. Merlin used the dim light to navigate his way through the mess on his floor and over to a drawer in his desk. Merlin pulled it open and peered inside. Half covered by papers, the woven wooden circle that encased the white-blue stone sat there as if it had been waiting for him. Merlin took a deep breath and then picked the necklace up.

He held the pendant and felt his magic react not unpleasantly to its magic. _This will help protect Arthur. _Merlin stared at it for the briefest moment and then placed it around his neck. For all of a heartbeat nothing happened and then Merlin felt waves of warm yet rather foreign magic flow into him, suppressing his own magic.

Merlin's magic roared and raged against the force beating it down. Merlin felt his legs buckle and he sank to the ground until he was on his hands and knees. Pain was overcoming him. Fire that blossomed into excruciating torment spread to every last corner of his being engulfed him and boundless agony consumed his soul. He felt as if he was being suffocated and his chest heaved in and out in a desperate attempt to gulp in the air that it thought was being taken from it. The pain knocked him over onto his side and he curled up in a fetal position.

And there Merlin stayed for longer than he would ever remember. His every nerve was exploding in pain and despite how much he wanted to sweet darkness would not take him. So Merlin lay there unmoving and in agony for hours. But for all the pain he made not a single sound. Not even the tiniest whisper escaped his lips. And so Emrys suffered in silence.

* * *

Yeah, I warned you that this story was going to be dark. Man, I am really being mean to Merlin. But hey, it's all to serve the story. That's my one rule. Everything has to serve the story, not just be a cool idea. So please read and review. And do you wanna know secret? If everything goes as I have planned something very important will happen in the next chapter. You can guess all you want but I'm not going to say more than that other than I am really excited. I have been waiting so long for this. Eeek!

Okay, bye!


	3. The Writing on the Wall

Okay, so I am telling everyone right off the bat, make sure you are in the correct mood when you read this. This is a mega chapter and is chock full of important stuff. Stuff so important it puts every other chapter I have ever written to shame. So if you like this story, then do it the honor of making sure you're in the right mood when you read this. I want you to be able to appreciate this fully. So please, if you are ready, read and enjoy.

* * *

Arthur had nearly had a heart attack when he had woken up to the sunny face of Merlin. Merlin was supposed to be sick or whatever and unable to perform his duties. When he had said as much to him, the servant had replied that he was better now and he didn't want to give Arthur another excuse to call him lazy. That had been three days ago and Arthur was still having trouble getting used to seeing Merlin up and about. To the casual observer Merlin looked healthier than ever, but Arthur knew better. The king had seen Merlin when the servant thought no one was looking and what he had witnessed had been disturbing, to say the least.

Whenever Merlin thought he was alone the cheery and joyful façade dropped and his face would crumple up in agony. He looked like he was being heavily tortured. Arthur had been so taken aback by the intense pain on his face that he had been frozen where he stood; unable to move because of how shocked he was.

Merlin was many things, but 'fine' or 'better' was not among them. And every time he saw Merlin's fake, but oddly realistic, smile he felt burning anger boil up inside of him. What was wrong with Merlin and why on earth was the idiot hiding it from him? His anger at Merlin for not telling him was rivaled only by his anger at whatever was causing him so much pain.

It took all of three days before Arthur couldn't take it anymore. He had tried to wait patiently; perhaps Merlin was planning on telling him but was just waiting for the right opportunity. Well, Arthur had given his plenty of chances to say something. He had lost count of how many times he had asked Merlin if he was alright or had made some other comment about his strange behavior of late. But Merlin hadn't given him so much as a speck of information about what was wrong with him and instead had lied to him over and over again. And now Arthur was done nodding his head and pretending like he didn't know that there was something seriously off with his servant. He deserved the truth and if Merlin wasn't going to offer it to him then Arthur would just have to confront him about it and demand the truth.

And that was why Arthur was making his way to Gaius' chambers at that very moment; to get the truth.

But as Arthur neared the slightly-ajar door he heard voices and he slowed down. He crept up to the door and peered in cautiously through the crack. Inside he could see Gaius and Merlin facing each other. It wasn't hard o hear what they were saying, in fact, it was conveniently easy; they weren't exactly quiet.

"Merlin," Gaius said, sounding angry and worried and frustrated and sad and resigned all at once. "You can't continue like this. How much longer do you think you'll be able to hide it? You're dying!"

Arthur felt as if a sword had just run him through and all the air escaped his lungs soundlessly. _No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! _ Merlin couldn't be dying! He just couldn't He—

Arthur's frantic and excruciating thoughts were cut off when Merlin spoke up. "I'm not dying, Gaius—" Arthur felt his heart resume beating again and his whole being flooded with relief to the point that he felt dizzy—"stop overreacting."

In the midst of his relief Arthur found himself puzzled by Merlin's tone. _Did Merlin just snap at Gaius?_

Merlin moved out of Arthur's thin line of sight and Gaius took a step toward the servant, allowing Arthur to see him better. "How am I overreacting, Merlin?" Gaius asked, snapping back angrily. "We don't know what is happening to you! For all we know you are dying." All the relief left Arthur and desperate concern and fear filled him again. "People have asked a lot of difficult things form me in my life, Merlin, and I've done them all, if I had to, but you cannot ask me to _not_ care that you may be dying. I can't stop worrying about you or being afraid that at any moment you may drop dead right before my eyes; that is asking too much, Merlin." Arthur could hear the clear and unfathomable pain in the physician's voice. "Over the years I have watched as you walked into too many dangerous situations to count and I have waited, praying that you'd return alive and in one piece. There have been so many times when I have nearly lost you and every single time I see you laying on that bed—"Gaius pointed to the cot he usually laid patients on—"and all I can think is that I failed you. Your mother sent you to me hoping that I could help you and protect you. I promised her I'd keep you safe." Arthur had never heard such pain and sadness in Gaius' voice before. "And I've failed; I've broken my promise. How many awful things have happened to you that I have been powerless to stop?"

Gaius then suddenly banged his fist down on the table next to him, almost making Arthur jump in surprise. Gaius never lashed out psychically in anger. "But no more, Merlin. I've stood by in the past and knowingly let you run into dangerous situations because I knew how important your destiny is, but I will not let you kill yourself like this. I care about you too much, Merlin. You're like a son to me and I cannot watch as you waste away because you won't for once, for once in your life put yourself and your needs before others!" Gaius paused as his voice broke and when he spoke again he sounded as if he was holding back tears. "Please, Merlin, I will not lose you. So please, save yourself, Merlin."

For a few moments the room was completely silent and everything was still. Then Arthur heard the sounds of floorboards creaking and then Merlin moved back into view. The look on Merlin's face was one of utter pain, but not the physical pain that Arthur had been seeing so often on the servant's face over the last few days, but rather deep emotional pain as if his heart was being torn in two right before his eyes. He stretched his hand out to touch Gaius, but stopped and let it fall. The minutes dragged on without any sound or movement while Arthur himself was inwardly reeling.

All the things Gaius has said. About all the times Merlin had willing walked into danger. Arthur had never even considered how dangerous every adventure he took Merlin on was and how worried Gaius must be for him. Not to mention how devastated Gaius probably was every time he brought Merlin back home injured or ill. And the pure fear Arthur had heard in his voice scared him to no end. If whatever was happening to Merlin had any chance of killing him then…well, Arthur couldn't bear to think about it. He had been forced to face the idea of Merlin dying in the past and he had always found the idea too painful to endure.

"_For once, for once in your life put yourself and your needs before others!"_ Gaius' words rang in his ears. From what he had said…Arthur always called Merlin lazy, but when was the last time he had seen or heard of Merlin doing something for himself when other people needed him for one thing or another? Of course, there were all the supposed tavern trips, but Arthur had never fully believed them. And if Gaius said that Merlin was ignoring his own needs to serve others then…

Guilt consumed Arthur as he wondered if he had ever kept Merlin from taking care of himself with all his ordering about. Arthur's thoughts were in turmoil. He felt like he had learned things just by listening to their conversation. And when Gaius had said the word 'destiny', well, it had sent chills up and down his spine and had sparked certain memories and ideas in his head that he wasn't quite sure he wanted to think about. And Merlin having some big and important destiny, which is what Gaius had made it sound like, made absolutely no sense at all in his brain, and at the same time he understood it and it felt more real to him than anything had recently.

Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin as the deafening silence was broken when Merlin finally spoke.

"Gaius," the young man began, sounding very torn and full of that same emotional pain Arthur had seen on his face, "you have to understand that what you're asking…I just can't do it." If possible Merlin's face turned even sadder and he looked as if he was literally beyond crying, though how someone could be too sad to cry was something past Arthur's own understanding. "Do you think this he what I want?" he asked with no trace of anger or indignation in his tone as one would expect from his words. "I have—" he turned around, running his hand through his messy hair in distress—"wracked my brain for some sort of solution or way out, but as awful as staying here and doing nothing but hiding it all and praying that when that day comes it will be far in the future, it is the _best _option I can think of. And Kilgharrah thinks so as well. I don't know what else to do, Gaius," his voice was so full of anguish that Arthur wasn't even entirely sure it _was_ actually Merlin speaking. "If you can give me a better idea, a better path to follow—" Merlin turned back around to face Gaius—"then please, tell me. But until then I have to do what I think is best; how can I do anything else?"

Merlin's eyes were pleading and Arthur felt the need to provide some sort of answer for him, even though he still really had no idea what they were talking about. He had never seen or heard either of them like this before and it was honestly and truly worrying Arthur half out of his mind. Part of him was wishing he had never come here, but had rather stayed in his chambers because then he could have remained oblivious to whatever this frightening and, quite frankly, maddening conversation was. Arthur was finding that he needed to know more and more about what exactly was going on with every word that they spoke. His curiosity was practically killing him.

Mere hours before Merlin had fainted over a week ago Arthur had thought to himself that Gaius must have very good reasons for keeping his secrets, if he had any, but now he was not so sure. Whatever was going on with Merlin was very, very serious and Arthur should never have been kept in the dark about this. Whatever was going on involved Merlin's well-being, which meant that Arthur had a right to know. Arthur couldn't believe that they were keeping this from him.

"You could leave, Merlin," Gaius said, but Arthur could hear the lack of hope in his voice. It didn't seem that the old man really believed he could dissuade Merlin from his current path. "Leave Camelot and try to figure out what is happening to you and how to control it. If you went somewhere remote you could take off that blasted necklace." Arthur saw Merlin pull a small necklace that he vaguely recognized, but couldn't see well enough to fully remember, out from underneath his shirt. What this necklace had to do with anything, Arthur didn't know, but for some reason upon seeing it he immediately got angry, as if this object was to blame for hurting his friend.

"And where would I go, Gaius?" Merlin asked dejectedly.

The physician threw his hands up in the air angrily. "I don't know Merlin! Somewhere! Anywhere but here!" For a second there was silence as Gaius calmed down slightly, then said, "You could find the druids; they might be able to help you."

At the mention of druids—and by extension, magic— Arthur felt his blood freeze and his breath caught. Gaius was suggesting that Merlin seek out known magic practitioners with the sole intention of asking for their help. But, though at first his father's words and all the conditioning of his childhood boomed in Arthur's head, the king soon realized that if it was to save Merlin from death or at least from terrible pain, then he would be more than willing to let him break the law and even break the law for him.

Merlin slowly pulled up a stool and sat down. Putting his face in his hands, he said, "Don't you think I have thought of that, Gaius?" He lifted his head. "I have considered every possibility and I don't think they can help me."Gaius looked like he was about to protest, but Merlin kept him from speaking up by saying, "Come on, Gaius. You know as well as I do that this is way out of their depth or out of anyone's depth." Merlin gestured to himself. "What is happening to me has never happened to anyone else before."

Confusion rippled through Arthur like a wave, but he didn't have time to speculate as to what Merlin meant because Gaius said right away, "We don't know that. Perhaps this has happened before."

Merlin huffed a sarcastic laugh that made Arthur feel sick to his stomach. Merlin's laugh was supposed to have joy and warmth in it, not pain and grim defeat. "Do you honestly believe that, Gaius?" He abruptly stood and pointed at his guardian. "The day I first came to Camelot, mere hours after you had met me, you said that I was different, unique. You said that there has never been anyone like me before. And even if what is happening to me has occurred in the past, this is certainly on a larger scale than it has been for anyone." Gaius opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it upon realizing that there was nothing to say.

"I am different," Merlin continued, his voice bubbling with emotion, "than anyone—" he flung out his arms as if to gesture at the entire world—"who has ever lived. What hurts others doesn't hurt me. What brings men to their knees, I endure. And what has no effect on all the wonderful, lucky people of this world crushes me to dust."

Merlin sighed and in that one sigh he sounded so very old. "I am not like the rest of the people in this world, Gaius. If I thought the druids could help me understand and cope I would have gone to them long ago. But they can't—" Merlin led his gaze fall to the floor—"and you can't." Merlin brought up his head. "No one can, Gaius. I have always known this and it's time you accepted it."

Merlin slowly turned away and started heading for the door, causing Arthur to scramble backwards.

"So that's it?" Both Arthur and Merlin stopped dead in their tracks and the king carefully checked to see what Merlin was doing. The young man had turned back around to face Gaius, who had spoken, once more. "You've given up?" Gaius asked incredulously and as Arthur saw Merlin head back towards his father-figure he himself dared to creep back to his old spot, his eyes peering through the crack again.

"The Merlin I know," Gaius continued and some of the anger had returned to his tone, "wouldn't just take all this lying down. You always believe that there is a way out, Merlin, and for you hope is never lost. But in recent years I have seen less and less of the cheery, happy young man who first came to Camelot, and more and more of a battle-weary soldier who has both forgotten how to fight and how to stop. But regardless of these changes, you cannot not be content to just spend the rest of your life, however long or short it may be, in agony." Arthur saw Merlin flinch at those words.

"Gaius I—" Merlin began, but the man in question wouldn't let him say more.

"If you can look me in the eye," Gaius challenged, "and truthfully tell me that underneath that mask of yours you're not suffering pain every second of every day beyond anything you suffered in a long time then I will admit that I've been overreacting and I'll let all of this go."

Arthur couldn't see Merlin's face as his back was to him, but he could tell from how rigid he had gone that he couldn't do what Gaius had asked. For perhaps a whole minute, guardian and ward stared off at each other in silence until Gaius nodded his head as if to say "that's what I thought".

Gaius began to turn away from his almost-son, but Merlin rushed forward and put a hand on his shoulder, turning him back. Arthur could now see both of their faces. "You know why I'm doing this, Gaius," the young man said and suddenly all that age and weariness vanished from his voice and he sounded almost small. "If this was all about me or you then I would gladly leave Camelot and never return if that is what it took—" Arthur felt his gut twist violently at that—"but it's not." Merlin let his hand fall from Gaius' shoulder and calmly and not at all angrily as he had before, gestured around him. "Everything I have done I've done for Arthur."

Arthur could swear he had been punched. The layers and meaning behind those few simple words were beyond his ability to comprehend. All thought disappeared from Arthur's mind from the pure shock of hearing it.

"And he's also the reason I have to stay," Merlin went on, not knowing the effect his words were having on his king outside. "I can't take the risk that Arthur would follow me if I left. And, most importantly, I can't leave him here unprotected."

"Arthur does have knights who have been trained specifically to protect him, Merlin," Gaius said, but the manservant just shook his head.

"You know as well as I do, Gaius, that they are not enough. What I can do…" Merlin trailed off and eventually just shook his head again. "He needs me." Merlin sunk back down onto the stool from before and Gaius followed him, sitting on a bench. "All that I have done for him over the years—" he chuckled and Arthur was slightly relieved to hear the small, thin vein of genuine humor in that laugh—"and all of it he has never even been aware of." The humor left his face and the sadness reigned once more. "And if I leave now all of that will have been for nothing. I have saved that prat's life more times than I can count and he still thinks that I am a idiots, bumbling, lazy servant who is incapable of so much as hurting a fly." Then Merlin's face hardened with grim determination and with it, his voice. "And he can never know. He can never know what's happening to me or that I'm anything over than 'fine' and he most certainly cannot ever learn what I've done for him. Arthur has to keep on thinking that I'm just a useless, dim-in-the-head servant. He can never know what I am." Merlin stood up and looked down at Gaius. "So if I have to live the rest of my life…feeling this way then so be it. I have weighed every option and considered every door and this is the only thing that I can do."

Gaius stood up. "And what about you, Merlin?" he asked his voice full of concern, "don't you deserve some happiness, some recognition? For so long now you've been waiting and longing for the day when Arthur realizes all you've done for him and exactly the kind of friend you are. How is it right that you have to give up that hope?"

Merlin sighed and the age was back in his voice. "None of this is right, Gaius, and perhaps it will never be again, but it has to be this way. Because if—" pain so heavy that it nearly knocked Arthur over laced Merlin's voice—"if Arthur ever discovers even the tiniest fraction of who I am and what I've done for him then there will be no keeping the secret at all. He'll know what's happening to me. He'll know what I am. And he will accept me, Gaius," Merlin gave the man who was a father to him a long serious look, "Kai told me so. And when he does; when Arthur learns all of that and accepts me…he will die."

For a moment everything for Arthur was the same while his shocked sand confused brain refused to comprehend what it had heard. But then suddenly, as if the floodgates had been opened, the full meaning of what Merlin had said and crashed down on him and intense pain filled his being. Everything, this whole tortured conversation that Merlin and Gaius had been having, all the physical and emotional pain Merlin was putting himself through so needlessly, and all the sadness and rage that the two of them were feeling due to horrible circumstances; all of that was because of Arthur. All because Merlin was trying to save and protect Arthur. And in the blink of an eye all the anger and frustration and hate that Arthur had ever felt in his whole life turned inward. Never before had Arthur hated himself with such a fierce intensity.

Not only was he guilty of poorly treating his best friend, who had apparently done more for him and had been more loyal than all the knights put together, not only had he completely misjudged Merlin and had been insultingly oblivious to all the times he owed Merlin his life, but now he was the very reason that Merlin was suffering unimaginable pain and was dooming himself to a miserable life.

And the hate that Arthur felt for himself was equaled by the awe he felt at Merlin's selflessness and how willing the young man was to sacrifice everything to save the life of a friend who didn't even treat him right. Of course, exactly how Arthur was supposedly to die and why, the king still didn't know, and though it was bugging him, it wasn't what mattered at this moment. What mattered right now is that Merlin was risking his life and denying his own needs just to protect Arthur and that…that was too much for the royal to handle.

Arthur dimly heard Merlin say to Gaius, "So that's it. Things are always going to have to be this way, Gaius. I know watching me hasn't been easy for you, and I am truly sorry for that, but this is how things are going to have to be from now on. It's not right, it's not fair, but I have no choice. I'm sorry."

By the time Merlin had finished speaking Arthur had already spun around and begun running. The king fled, fled from everything that he had heard and all that he had learned. He fled from the thought that he was hurting Merlin. He fled from that ancient and old look on Merlin's face. He fled from all the guilt and pain that was consuming him. And he fled from that resigned and determined look on Merlin's face that said the man knew he was going to suffer greatly in the future and was willing to live with it, no matter how unbearable it might be.

But no matter how far Arthur ran it was not enough. It would never be enough running, not to outrun this. Because the things that Arthur had seen and heard had opened his eyes to so many things that he had missed for so many years. And as Merlin had correctly said, all it took was Arthur's mind to be opened a little and everything else would soon follow. Merlin didn't know it, and neither did Arthur, but very soon his king, his friend, and the person he had been serving and sacrificing himself for since he first arrived in Camelot, would discover his secret and then there would be nothing standing in the way of him and his deadly fate.

* * *

Merlin was indignant as he rushed down the courtyard steps and tried to catch up with Arthur before he mounted his horse and rode away. The pack on his back bounced painfully as he descended steps and Merlin had to grit his teeth slightly. Normally that rather slight pain would be easy to ignore, but with the raging and burning pain inside of him the barest added discomfort threatened to break his carefully sculpted mask. But Merlin kept it together. The last thing he needed was to break down screaming as he was inwardly begging to do right in front of Arthur. That would raise more than a few questions. And Merlin definitely didn't want to give Arthur another reason to suspect that there was something wrong with him.

Merlin had returned to work over a month ago and ever since then Arthur had acted differently. At first his Royal Prattiness hadn't been _too_ odd. He had been paying an uncomfortable amount of attention to him and asking if he was alright nearly every time he saw him, but Merlin could put up with it. But then something had changed. Arthur had begun to avoid him and when he did see him he looked almost as if he was in some sort of pain.

Since then Arthur had been strangely nice to him. He had given a lot of his more unpleasant and strenuous duties to other servants and he never gave him extra chores as punishment for being late anymore. In fact, this past month, Merlin had found himself with _free_ time on his hands, something he hadn't had since living in Ealdor, and not often even then.

Arthur's behavior was very disconcerting, but every time he approached the king about it he would look extremely guilty and say that as servant to the ruler of an entire kingdom there were certain chores that were beneath him and this was a problem that should have been rectified long ago. To some degree it made sense, because, technically speaking, he was above all other servants, though Merlin rarely ever saw himself that way.

But regardless, Merlin didn't buy that as an excuse for how considerate Arthur was being and he still hadn't completely ruled out magic as the cause. But he couldn't think about that now.

Merlin rushed over to Arthur just as he was mounting. "Arthur!" he cried, slightly breathless. Even the slightest bit of running winded him these days. "You're going on a patrol!" he exclaimed indignantly.

Arthur sighed, but beneath his familiar annoyance Merlin could see the same odd mixture of guilt, concern, and anger. "Yes, Merlin! I'm so glad you're finally using those eyes of yours," Arthur replied sarcastically.

Merlin glared up at Arthur, who was now seated firmly on his horse, and said, "Why wasn't I invited? I only found out a few minutes ago that you were going." Merlin frowned slightly in confusion. "You always order me to come along and now suddenly you don't even inform me about it?"

For a moment Merlin saw apprehension in his king's eyes, but then it vanished and he replied, "It just occurred to me the other day that I've spent a lot of time training you and it would be a waste if you went on a patrol one day and died. Over six years of hard effort, on my part, would be for nothing. And since you can't defen—" Arthur abruptly cut himself off and Merlin saw a very strange look, one he had seen far too many times for comfort as of late, in his blue orbs that he couldn't quite identify, but then the king started again—"swing a sword to save your life and you're rubbish at stay quiet, it really makes no sense at all to bring you with," Arthur finished, covering up his stumble or stutter, or whatever it was, pretty well.

The confusion and frustration Merlin had been experiencing so often lately rose to the surface again and with it, an extra harsh wave of pain that he only just barely managed to keep from coloring his face. What Arthur had said had actually been very logical. Those were the very same reasons most kings or anyone important with a dangerous job didn't usually take servants with them unless they were skilled in some sort of combat. But since when was Arthur logical or like most kings? Since when did any of the rules or protocol concerning servants apply to him? Merlin knew for a fact that many men had tried to advise Arthur as to proper servant/master etiquette and the normal roles of a king's servant. And Merlin also knew that Arthur had never listened. So why was he now?

The only thing Merlin could think to say in his confusion was, "Well, I want to come." And in hindsight Merlin would berate himself for not having a wittier retort to give.

Arthur chuckled—an almost-too-loud chuckle that sounded forced and slightly uneasy—and said, "I never thought you actually enjoyed the patrols, Merlin. I guess I've been misjudging you."

There was something about how the king had said that last sentence that bothered Merlin. It had sounded too sincere, too guilty, and too apologetic to come from Arthur. Merlin was decidedly uncomfortable now, so he did his best to change that. "Well, someone has to protect your royal backside. I doubt you can even get along a few hours without me."

Though Merlin's tone was joking, it almost seemed as if Arthur took it seriously. For an awkward number of seconds Arthur just stared at Merlin, until he at least looked away and said in the voice of someone who was trying to suppress something—Merlin definitely knew what that sounded like— strong, "Well, Gaius would never forgive me if you ever got hurt, so…" he trailed off, another thing he had been doing often lately.

Merlin mentally shook himself. He couldn't keep wondering what was up with Arthur or he'd never get anything done, lighter workload or not. "Doesn't matter anyway. Even if you left me behind I'd find a way to follow you. You're not the only one who doesn't wish for his effort to wasted, you know."

Merlin could swear that, just for a second, fear flashed in Arthur's eyes, though, in the last few minutes alone he had thought he'd seen half a dozen emotions that shouldn't be there, so perhaps it was just his eyesight worsening.

Arthur slowly nodded his head. "I suppose you would," he said. "Well, Merlin, if you can be ready in the next two minutes you can join us," announced it loud enough so that his knights knew there might be a slight delay.

Merlin took his pack and placed it on the horse that a sable hand was bringing to him at that very moment. He'd had the foresight to send a servant as soon as he learned of Arthur's trip ahead of him to get a horse prepared. Merlin put his foot in one of the stirrups and said, "I already am. Let's go patrol."

As Merlin rode along behind Arthur he couldn't help but wonder if Gaius had been right. Several times since Merlin had told him about the pain his magic was causing him, Gaius had mentioned that he might be dying. Merlin always maintained that he wasn't, but inwardly a part of him was afraid that maybe the level of pain and turmoil his magic was in was capable of killing him. He didn't exactly feel like he was dying, but, then again, these days Merlin could hardly feel anything beyond the fire coursing through his being.

So many times Merlin had been ready to face death if it meant protecting someone he loved or doing the right thing, and every time he had gone into battle it had been with the knowledge that he might not come back out, but dying like this? Agonizingly? Slowly and pointlessly? Just fading away?

Merlin couldn't imagine dying that way. He had always thought he would die either of old age or in a fight. But if this pain continued and his magic never calmed down it very well might end up killing him. Merlin hadn't used so much as a thread of his magic in over a month and during that time the pain had increased on a daily basis. He could hardly sleep; his magic being cooped up made him restless and agitated. Most days he couldn't eat either because the pain made him too nauseous to even think about it.

In truth Merlin wouldn't be too surprised if this was the end of him, but what could he do? Nothing. Merlin would stay here in Camelot even if doing so killed him, because what choice did he have? And perhaps it would be better if he died then the prophecy about Arthur's destiny would never be fulfilled. All Merlin had to do was keep his magic a secret and lay low for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, Merlin's thoughts came to an abrupt halt as his screaming magic stopped making such a fuss upon sensing something. Merlin glanced around warily. Something was wrong. He didn't know what it was, but if it was enough to cause his magic to quiet down for the first time in a month then it had to either be very good or very bad. The blaze igniting his blood had lowered to a dull simmer and despite the fact that it was the first relief he'd had in since putting on that necklace, he wasn't happy. There was something not right going on.

Everything seemed normal. None of the knights were acting wary of their surroundings. In fact, only Arthur seemed to be on edge as he, too, was glancing around. But perhaps the problem was that everything was too quiet, too still, too normal. Even the plants and trees seemed too pretty and green. Everything was shiny and too sharp and clear. Merlin's senses were always heightened when his magic went on red alert, but it had never happened this strongly before.

"Arthur," he called.

Arthur looked over at him. "What, Merlin?"

But Merlin never got a chance to tell Arthur what he was going to say. Without warning, his surroundings began to slow down and the edges of his vision got dark. Then a loud booming crash thundered in his head and Merlin clutched it in pain as words roared and seared through his mind in a voice he recognized. It was Kai's.

"_I'm sorry, Merlin."_

The first thing Merlin heard upon regaining his hearing was the twang of a bowstring. Before he even had the chance to recover from the pounding in his head, everything around him was thrown into chaos.

To his left a knight was hit with an arrow and cried out in pain as he fell from his horse. People around him yelled and ducked for cover while Merlin himself slid off his horse and hid behind a large boulder to get his bearings. His eyes searched frantically for both the men firing these arrows, but also for Arthur. He needed to protect him at all costs. To his right Merlin saw Leon's shoulder get speared with a particularly sharp-looking arrow.

"Leon!" Merlin heard Arthur yell and his head swiveled to see the king running towards the shooter hidden in some bushes up an embankment and plunge his sword into the man's stomach. Then a great roar rose up from all around them as at least a dozen men rushed into view, swinging swords and very deadly-looking maces. The remaining knights, who had not yet been injured—about two thirds of the original group that had set out from the castle—drew their swords, if they hadn't already, and engaged their enemies.

The two opposing forces clashed and the ring and clang of metal resounded through the forest. Merlin saw a man come up behind Arthur, who was in combat with someone else and therefore unaware of the danger behind him, and he reached out his hand and tried to pull his magic to the surface in the hopes of saving Arthur. But as soon as Merlin summoned his magic the pain within him built up to a terrible crescendo and a harsh and guttural scream ripped out of his throat.

Arthur heard the scream and whipped around just in time to dodge the cruel mace that was being thrown at him. In two swift movements Arthur had ended the man's life and was now running towards Merlin.

The warlock collapsed against the boulder, almost plastered to it, as his vision went in and out. The pain was receding and it took his strength with it. He was unable to move his head, but his head had fortunately fallen against the rock just the right way that he could see most of the small battle going on around him. It seemed that his scream had startled everyone, but the knights in a streak of protectiveness and anger at anyone who had supposedly hurt Merlin had recovered first and were now finishing off their opponents.

By now Arthur had reached him. "Merlin! Merlin, what happened?" Arthur asked. The only thing that bested the concern in his tone was the worry in his eyes. He turned Merlin around to face him and the sorcerer found it oddly funny how limp his body was and how easily Arthur was able to manipulate it. Arthur scanned Merlin with his eyes, searching for whatever had been the cause of his scream, but whatever he saw obviously worried him because he said, "I need to get you out of here." Then Arthur ducked suddenly and an arrow swooshed over his head. "Now," he added urgently.

The king then proceeded to pick Merlin up and throw him over his shoulder in a way that would be demeaning on most days. But whatever had happened with his magic had left him completely drained; devoid of all energy. At most, he could twitch a few fingers. So Merlin figured, in this case, being treated like a little kid or perhaps a sack of potatoes was deserved.

But as Arthur got to his feet and started running away from the battle field, Merlin's eyes, which he still had no control of but merely saw whatever moved in front of them, glimpsed a dark figure hiding in a tree. And Merlin could swear, just for a second as his eyes slid over the man, that he saw a flash of gold in those dark eyes.

* * *

Arthur ran, carrying Merlin over his shoulder, for about ten minutes before he finally stopped and put the servant down. Merlin lay limply against the tree that was the only thing keeping him upright and Arthur sat down next to him. For a moment, Merlin flashed back to the time perhaps eight months ago when he had gotten injured and, just like now, had carried him away from the battle. Only that time it had been night and he really had been injured.

Arthur leaned towards him. "

"Where did you get hurt?" He asked, and once again began scanning him.

Merlin just shook his head as much as he was able. He just didn't have the strength for any greater response.

"Come on," Arthur said, annoyance coloring his tone in what Merlin knew what an attempt to cover up his worry, "you have to be injured somewhere. What's—" Arthur suddenly stopped speaking as his eyes fixed on one specific spot on Merlin. Then, before Merlin knew what had happened, Arthur had untied his blue neckerchief and pulled it away and as he did so Merlin got the merest glimpse of the red spotting it. Merlin didn't know what Arthur saw, but whatever it was made him clench his jaw in anger.

"What?" Merlin croaked, the energy it took just to say that one word making his eyes close briefly in exhaustion. When he opened them up again Arthur was holding up his clean knife before him and turning it ever-so-slightly right and left. It took Merlin a second, but then he could see clearly the reflection of what it was that had made Arthur so mad.

Five or so thin trickles of blood had descended from Merlin's neck and down his collarbone to disappear into his shirt. Merlin's blue orbs traveled upward to see what had made them. Circling his neck, etched into the skin was a thick, red line that Merlin could only imagine having been made if he had been strangled by a chain. And sure enough, sitting just below the cut skin, was the blood-covered, silver chain on which the magical pendant was attached. It looked, for all the world, like the necklace had suddenly and magically tightened enough to cut and carve its way into the tender skin of his neck.

Merlin's mouth hung open slightly at the gruesome sight. The odd thing was, he couldn't remember feeling any pain in his neck there at the time. But then again, the rest of his body had been in so much agony that something as comparatively minor as this was unlikely to have registered. Even now he couldn't feel what should have been a burning, stinging pain from where the chain had cut.

Merlin brought his eyes up to Arthur's and was surprised at the unbridled anger in them. Not only that, but recognition, as if he had seen this necklace before and already had just reason for despising it. Of course, Arthur had seen it when Mercy had given it to him, but that didn't explain Arthur's hate for it.

"Merlin," Arthur began slowly and the warlock could see a torrent of emotions building in his eyes, most of which had nothing at all to do with their present circumstances, "how did—"

An arrow shot out of nowhere and hit Arthur square in the chest. The king cried out and fell backwards.

Merlin, intense fear flowing through him, jerked forwards and in less than a second was at Arthur's side. The king's eyelids were fluttering and he was groaning in pain. Merlin's gaze drifted to the wound and, upon seeing the wooden shaft, rage unlike anything he had ever felt in his entire existence coursed through him.

"_Arthur will die…saving you."_

_NO!_ A voice inside him bellowed and something deep inside him burst into life in a thousand, brilliant flames. _Why should I let Arthur die?!_ The voice thundered. _NO! I am Arthur's protector and it is MY choice whether he lives or dies! It is NOT Arthur's time to go! And I WILL NOT LET ANYONE TAKE HIM FROM ME!_

Merlin's body roared to life and strength greater than any he had ever known shot through him. From some place ancient within, a place that had desperately been trying to get to the surface for over a month now, new, old, powerful magic flowed into him. This magic, fueled by anger so intense that it was blinding and more painful than anything he had ever known, was stronger than any power he had ever felt before. Strong…and intoxicating.

Merlin's next few movements did not feel as if they were his own, but rather that it had been his magic that had been guiding, controlling his body. Merlin's whole body turned and his blazing eyes found the shooter, standing less than fifteen feet away. Just the sight of the man, the man who had dared to shoot Arthur spiked the already incredible anger inside him. And then Merlin screamed a terrible scream that was halfway between an ordinary scream and his Dragonlord roar, and yet was truly neither, at him and the man flew backwards, his body crunching as it hit a tree hard. And as Merlin screamed he could feel the anger receding, leaving him entirely as soon as it had exacted its revenge.

Merlin blinked; feeling woozy with the anger suddenly gone and along with it all the strength and infinite power he had felt. He swayed slightly, but then caught Arthur out of the corner of his eye. Merlin snapped back towards him, fear and worry filling him once again. The king's eyes were still fluttering and his face was still tensed in pain. Merlin's eyes found the stick of wood in his chest again and, without even thinking about it first, he grasped the arrow and yanked it out.

Arthur cried out in pain and his back arched slightly before his eyes closed and didn't reopen. Blood immediately began filling the vacant hole and panic flared through Merlin as well as the horrible fear that at any moment Arthur would die right before him. Pain gripped his heart.

Impulsively, Merlin reached forward and placed his hands on the wound. He had never been good at healing and even less so when he said the actual spells. But Merlin closed his eyes and pictured Arthur, as he had so often seen him, healthy and strong, fighting or sparring. Then he breathed in and focused on that large place in his heart that was willing to do anything to save Arthur, including die for him. That place that had so often pulled the both of them out of danger. A place of desperation and intense love.

Then Merlin summoned the thready magic dimly humming within his veins and exhaled. His eyes opened and pure gold shone in his changeable irises.

Merlin was afraid to look, to see if his magic had finally done what he asked of it and had healed Arthur. But as Merlin felt Arthur suddenly shift beneath him, he let his gaze fall down towards his king.

The wound was gone, leaving not the slightest mark.

A faint smile spread across Merlin's face, that is, until he saw the king's eyes flutter open. Merlin met Arthur's gaze and saw something he didn't expect to see. Surprise and astonishment.

"Merlin," Arthur gasped breathlessly, "you—you just used magic."

And with those few words, all Merlin's dreams, all he had hoped for and all the suffering he had endured the past month meant nothing as his whole world imploded. Arthur knew. And now he would die.

* * *

Aaah. I have been waiting to write the reveal for roughly two years. Finally! I took my sweet time getting here. Now I can get to the really good stuff that I feel like everyone but me has had a chance to do already. All of Arthur's questions and the explanations and his reactions. And, as usual, you can expect me to at least try to do it in a way that no one else has. Of course, reveals have been done in all sorts of forms and I'm sure it's hard to do something unique, but hey, why should that stop me from trying?

So...basically I'm expecting many, many, many reviews for this chapter. I've finally given you what you've been waiting for. And please, I love good, meaty feedback about the specific things you liked or thought would happen or maybe should have happened. Though, I am just going to point out that in the scene with Merlin and Gaius' argument I had really hoped to give Arthur a look at some of Merlin's scars as another way of setting up for the reveal, but there really was no place for it and since I'm actually rather proud of that scene I chose not to mess with it.

So please, especially those of you who were with me at the beginning when I started my first story a little over a year ago and my writing was much worse; I would love some comments from you. And please tell me if you _were_ there in the beginning. Many of you I know, but not everyone, especially if you haven't reviewed a lot. I am so grateful to all the people who have read this story and enjoyed it; you're one of the big reasons why I kept writing.

Now to the next chapter, though, I have to warn some of you that it might be a little while due to the fact that I have another story I desperately need to update. I've been putting that one on hold for the sake of this story, now it is this one's turn to give.


	4. Hope Fades

Now, before you kill me, I just want you to know that this is probably the most difficult chapter I have ever written. It might not seem that way to you when you read it, but it felt very impossible for me. Please don't think that I just left this story for a while and then started writing this a week ago. No, I've been trying hard to write this chapter since the last update. Please just remember that while you're stabbing me with an ice pick. Enjoy!

* * *

Merlin watched in stunned silence as the knights laid Arthur's unconscious body on Gaius' patient bed. Merlin felt numb all over and his mind was completely and utterly blank. The only thing that marred the numbness was a faint but persistent feeling that soon dread and far worse emotions were going to crash down upon him. Merlin knew this numbness wouldn't last forever and he would have been grateful for that fact if he hadn't known that as soon as it lifted misery unlike any he had ever known would engulf him, swallowing him whole. So for now Merlin let the blank emptiness wash over him as Gaius began to treat Arthur because he knew that at any moment he would begin wishing that he had never set foot in Camelot.

* * *

King Arthur may have been unconscious, but that didn't mean his mind was devoid of thought. In fact, his subconscious was tossing and churning with a billion different thoughts, feelings, emotions and memories. In truth, he had no serious reason to even be asleep. He wasn't injured, he wasn't tired, and he hadn't so much as bumped his head. He was only unconscious at all because the stress and trauma that his body had gone through by nearly dying and then to have a comforting, but still ultimately foreign, power enter his body and heal it faster than it could comprehend. That, coupled with the shocking discovery he had made as a result and the slight pushing of Merlin's magic to go asleep had rendered him unconscious without any real need.

But even though his body didn't need the rest, his mind required a chance to process and understand all that had occurred and come to terms with a startling piece of information. But, as Arthur was discovering, the more he thought about _everything_ the less surprised he was.

"_I could take you apart with one blow."_

"_I could take you apart with less than that."_

"_There's something about you, Merlin."_

Words from the first time they had met. Images of Merlin pulling him out of the way of a knife flashed into his mind and for the first time Arthur realized how unlikely it was that a peasant boy with slower reflexes than a prince or dozens of knights had been able to react so quickly.

And then Gaius' words—words that had been so full of conviction and strength despite having been recently tortured.

"_Contained within this great kingdom is a rich variety of people with a range of different beliefs. I'm not the only one seeking to protect you. There are many people who believe in the world you are trying to create. One day you will understand just how much they've done for you."_

And then there were all the times when Merlin had disappeared or gone off somewhere during or near a time of need and then for that danger to miraculously disappear to fade away for reasons beyond Arthur's understanding.

Arthur saw that terrifying night at the Isle of the Blessed when they had been surrounded by Dorocha and Merlin had said,

"_You don't know how many times I've saved your life."_

Image after image of all the times Merlin had willing attempted to give his life for him assaulted Arthur's mind. The poisoned goblet, the other instance with the poison and the labyrinth, running straight into the Dorocha, volunteering to be the sacrifice at the Isle of the Blessed and countless other times or instances where Arthur could swear Merlin had been about to. And not to mention those haunting words that he had never been fully able to banish from his thoughts and had never failed to chill him to the bone.

"_I'm happy to be your servant until the day I die."_

So many things that Merlin had said to him finally made sense. Every odd action, every strange disappearance, every lame excuse.

"_Are you really going to face this dragon with me?"_

"_I'm not going to sit here and watch."_

And Merlin's seemingly unfathomable bravery in even the worst of situations. He always had a chance to stay behind, but he never did.

Merlin always believed in him. Never once had Merlin given up on him or betrayed him.

And as Arthur's life was replayed in his own mind, he began to realize how many impossible conditions he had been in, only to have miraculously come out of mostly unscathed without any rational explanation as to why he was still alive. But now he had his answer—Merlin.

That idiot had saved him countless times and Arthur had never even once acknowledged the sacrifices he had made and thanked him for it. Worse than that, Arthur had treated Merlin like dirt. Had called him lazy, useless, stupid. But no more.

Slowly, Arthur Pendragon started waking himself up; he couldn't afford to be sleeping any longer. He had about a thousand apologies to make.

* * *

"Arthur's going to be all right, Merlin," Gaius said, looking up for the first time in a while from the king's prone body. "But you already knew that."

Merlin had been staring out one of the windows in Gaius' chambers for the last ten minutes without moving or making a sound. The numbness still encompassed him, but for how much longer Merlin didn't know.

"What did you tell the knights?" Gaius asked.

Without turning around, Merlin answered, "That Arthur hit his head hard and the blood on his clothes was an enemy's. I also told them that he _could_ have other injuries and that it was best we got him to you as soon as possible."

"Well, good job healing him, Merlin," Gaius said sounding slightly awkward probably because he couldn't understand his ward's strange behavior, "he hasn't a mark on him."

At that, Merlin crumpled and started laughing a sick, manic laugh. Merlin turned to face Gaius and the old man could see tears of despair and pain streaming down his cheeks even as he laughed. "_A good job_?" he asked, his voice was so full of different emotions that Gaius couldn't even begin to identify one. "I didn't do a good job, _Gaius_," he almost sneered, "I messed up! I did the one thing I've been training myself _not_ to do since I was five."

A bewildered and rather scared Gaius asked, "What could you have possibly done, Merlin? You saved Arthur. And whatever it is, I'm sure it's not that bad." Gaius needed to calm his ward down because he wasn't sure that in his current state Merlin was completely sane.

Merlin chuckled again and the deadness, the utter lack of humor in that sound chilled Gaius to the bone. "It's not that bad?" he asked almost incredulously and Gaius found himself taking an involuntary step back. He didn't know this Merlin. "I did the worst possible thing I could have done."

"I—" Gaius began, but Merlin wouldn't let him speak another word.

"He knows, Gaius," Merlin said, practically yelling, "Arthur knows I have magic!"As soon as Merlin spoke those words he completely deflated and sunk into a chair. He put his face in his hands. "And now he's going to die," Merlin continued in a small voice and Gaius could tell he was close to tears, "all because of me." And with that, Merlin broke down into tears.

But these weren't ordinary tears of sadness. These tears contained the raw pain and fear and despair of over six years. Everything Merlin had worked for, all he had suffered—it had been all in vain. Merlin had held in every tear and every drop of grief. All the anguish and pain and fear he had locked away. Merlin had kept everything inside because he had to and the only thing that had given him the strength to do so was the hope that Arthur and their destiny presented. Now that was all gone and there was nothing left in Merlin that was capable of stopping _everything_ he had endured from spilling out.

Merlin sobbed uncontrollably and each and every inch of his thin body shook from the waves of sorrow rolling through him.

Gaius' heart broke and he walked over to his almost-son. He placed a hand on his shoulder, but didn't say a word. There was nothing he could say. The knowledge alone that Merlin's secret was now revealed to Arthur scared Gaius more than anything had in a long time. But seeing Merlin like this…the boy was broken, there was no other word for it. Everything Merlin was, everything he had been forced to become had now crumbled to pieces.

So many things had been stolen from Merlin. His innocence, his childhood, his ability to live free and unafraid, people he loved, his well-being, his cheerfulness, his self-worth, his hope, his control over his own magic, and now…Arthur. Now there was nothing left but a sobbing shell of the great man Merlin really was—everything else had been taken from him.

Finally, Gaius spoke, his voice breaking, in a desperate attempt to save some part of his ward, "Merlin…we'll find a way to save him."

Merlin glanced up at his guardian, his face red and wet. "There is no way, Gaius," he said, his voice thick with sobs, "Kai told me so. Every prophecy I have ever heard has come true. Arthur is going to die and it's my fault." The boy buried his face in his hands again.

Gaius wanted to say something, comfort him, tell him it was all right, but, in truth, there was nothing to say. Arthur was going to die.

Gaius glanced over at the prone king and something caught his eye. Lying on a table next to Arthur was a very familiar pendant. It was Merlin's pendant, the only thing that could control his magic. And it was smashed. That bluish stone was cracked in half and Gaius could see little wisps of magic fluttering out of it.

And that's when Gaius realized the full meaning of the absence of that necklace on Merlin. The boy's magic was no longer out of control. Before, all it would take was the smallest emotion to send books and chairs flying everywhere. But now, not so much as a candle lit despite the torrent of emotions inside Merlin. That could mean only one thing…Merlin's magic had given up hope. It had stopped fighting…forever.

Finally, after what felt like a thousand years, Merlin lifted his head and got to his feet. Gaius' hand dropped to his side limply. Then the warlock began walking to the door, completely silent and devoid of tears.

"Merlin, where are you going?" Gaius asked, surprised at yet another change the boy's mood.

Merlin stopped and turned his head to look back. His face was emotionless. His face was the absence of everything. It didn't seem right that it was Merlin's face. "Nowhere, Gaius," he answer and his voice was dead. "It's all gone, I have nothing left. There is nowhere for me to go." Then he turned away and left the room without looking back.

* * *

Merlin let his gaze wash over the shining lake. He always came here when he was sad, or hurt, or lonely. It had always been a source of comfort to him, but now…nothing. In many ways it just made him feel worse.

It was dark and the moon was reflecting in the shimmering pool. The scene was probably beautiful, but was no longer capable of seeing beauty. His whole world was ash.

"Freya…" he began, but honestly didn't know what to say. Words usually spilled out of him whether he wanted them to or not when he was here, but not today. "I messed up. I made a mistake." Merlin felt his heart begging to cry, but his tear ducts wouldn't listen. His eyes remained dry. "You said I saved you…but you were wrong,—" his voice broke for a moment—"I couldn't save you. I couldn't save anybody. Not you, not Morgana, not my father, not Uther, not Lancelot, not the countless innocent lives that have been lost since I came to Camelot. And now Arthur."

Merlin sniffed even though there was no need and looked down at his boots. He shuffled his feet, kicking up dirt. "And I finally figured it out." He looked up at again and stared at the rippling water and search with his eyes for some sign of the woman he loved. "I finally know what my destiny is. Kilgharrah and everyone else who tried to predict what my purpose is were wrong. All this time I _haven't_ been the one who's going to save lives, stop death, and bring about Albion and the return of magic! I'm not great, I'm not powerful, I'm _not_ Emrys! My _destiny_ is to…" Merlin paused. Emotions were blocking his throat and making it hard to breathe. But Merlin forced the words out. "I'm destined to fail. Doomed to be unable to save those I love for all eternity. I'm a…a failure."

Silence filled the air and Merlin said nothing. Time passed and Merlin didn't move an inch from where he stood looking out over the lake. Wind rustled leaves and branches creaked, but Merlin stayed still as the awfulness of everything washed over him. Arthur was dead. Everything he had worked for was gone. His life was over, that is, if he had truly ever had one in the first place.

"My, my. Aren't we lucky, men, that the warlock is all alone?"

Merlin spun around the instant the voice shattered the thick silence. Emerging from the trees in front of him and surrounding him so that his only exit was the sparkling water, were eight tall, darkly clad, men. Most of them had swords drawn, but two of them actually were pointing arrows at his chest. Slightly in front of them all was a man who seemed, judging by his demeanor, to be the leader. He had an odd, hungry and manic glint in his eyes.

Instinctually, Merlin brought up his hand and summoned his magic, but instead of immediately coming to his aid as always, it slowly, sluggishly began to rise up. Merlin tugged and pulled at it, trying to get at least enough magic to send a few of them flying backwards, but to no avail.

"Doesn't the warlock look surprisingly similar to a frightened deer, men?' the leader asked in the tone of someone who believed everything and everyone to be his playthings.

Without lowering his hand and still attempting to call up his magic, Merlin warily asked the men who were still not moving from their positions, "What do you want?"

The leader smiled and the moonlight seemed to reflect off his teeth. "Why, a ransom has been put upon your head, sorcerer," he replied in that same obnoxious, belittling and patronizing tone, "and we have come to collect you so we may reap the rewards."

The rest of his men grinned and, almost as one, took another step toward him.

Merlin, with the last ounce of fear and self-preservation left, pulled enough magic free to send a white wave of energy out of his palm and straight towards one of the men. It hit one of the two archers and he crashed to the ground.

Instantly the band of men descended on him, rushing towards him so quickly Merlin hardly had a chance to blink. They grabbed him and held him still. Merlin struggled against the vice-like grips on his arms, but physical strength was not a quality he possessed. He tried to use his magic again, but the power no longer responded to his call. In fact, he could hardly feel his magic at all.

But suddenly, he didn't care anymore. He had fought out of an urge for self-preservation, but why did he care? His life was over. Everything that had once mattered to him was now gone. Merlin stopped struggling and hung limply in the holds on his arms. And what little magic inside him he could still feel squirmed and then…disappeared altogether. For the first time in Merlin's life he couldn't find his magic…and a part of him didn't even care.

The leader walked over to the fallen warrior and nudged him slightly with his foot, then looked over at Merlin. "You just had to go and kill one of my men, didn't you?" he asked rhetorically. He walked angrily over to him and stuck his face uncomfortably close. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find the right people for the kind of work I specialize in? None of them are ever skilled enough, cruel enough, or greedy enough." He half turned to one of his men to Merlin's right. "And tell me, Sebastian, what do we do to those who harm us?"

The man in question was the other archer and he grinned—he was missing a lot of teeth—and said, "Eye for eye, sir."

Merlin wanted to care about the rather crazy people around him, but his emotions all seemed to fall flat. Images of Arthur dying and crying out in pain flashed in his mind and without his magic he felt hollow. Even so, he couldn't help but feel a small flicker of fear at the archer's words.

"That's correct!" the leader announced louder than was necessary in this small clearing. "We take what was taken." He nodded his head and Merlin saw Sebastian draw an arrow and then let it loose.

Pain ripped through Merlin's shoulder and he cried out, doubling over and gasping. Merlin could hear his heart pounding in his ears and slowly, very slowly, he glanced at his right shoulder. A long, seven-inch arrow was imbedded in the flesh and muscles of his shoulder and the cloth of his jacket around the wound was already dark with blood. Dizziness overcame him and, though he had suffered far worse pain than what he was currently experiencing, he felt less…strong, as if all the strength he'd had to endure any pain whatsoever was gone. For the first time in his life Merlin realized how much his magic had been protecting him, how many walls and how much strength it had given him.

The leader roughly grabbed his chin and forced his head up so that Merlin had to look at him, albeit through bleary eyes. The leader's eyes roamed over him, as if searching for something he had expected, but could see. "I was told," he said in a much lower, but not exactly quiet, voice, "that you would put up a considerable fight. That it would be difficult to subdue you. That," he pulled a leather pouch out of his pocket, "I would have to use this to prevent you from using magic to kill us all." Merlin felt the smallest spark of confusion.

"But it seems," the leader continued, even quieter as he continued looking for some explanation on Merlin's face, "that my employer was wrong. You are not a formidable opponent. You use your magic once and then poof! It's gone." He leaned in even closer so that his nose was almost touching Merlin. The warlock couldn't have pulled away even if he had possessed the energy to. And then the man whispered so faintly that Merlin could scarcely hear it. "Not very impressive."

Then, abruptly, the leader pulled away and turned his back on Merlin and his voice resumed normal levels. "But just in case, I think I'm going to use this." He waved the leather bag and then handed it to one of his not-so-merry men.

The man came over to Merlin and pulled an object out of the bag. It was an iron brand that glowed red-hot and had a small handle with which the man held it. Merlin's eyes glanced at the bag and realized that either this branding iron or the pouch had to be enchanted, because there was no way something that hot wouldn't have burned through something as simple as leather.

The man with the iron nodded to his compatriots and they rolled up the sleeves on Merlin right arm, jostling the arrow wound in the process and making Merlin's vision go dark for a moment. A second later, when his sight cleared, Merlin saw with horror that the mercenaries or whoever they were had his arm held out so that his palm was facing up. The glowing brand was right next to the thin skin in his wrist and Merlin could feel its intense heat. Suddenly he was very, very afraid of the pain that was to come and he tried to pull away, but it was useless.

Out of the corner of his eyes Merlin saw the leader turn back around and Merlin glanced at him. For the first time Merlin looked at the man's soulless eyes. Recognition flashed in Merlin and anger surged through him. This leader, this man was the one he had seen watching him and Arthur in the trees when they had been attacked. That meant that this man and his men were responsible for Arthur nearly dying _and_ for him finding out. He could see it now. That same glint of joy at another's pain.

Anger at what this man had done and all the pain and death he had now caused boiled through Merlin and he wanted nothing more than to slit his throat. But before Merlin's magic had even the smallest chance to reawaken, the brand was pressed to the tender skin of his wrist.

Pain seared through Merlin and the last thing that the warlock knew before he passed out was the smell of his own flesh burning.

* * *

Arthur sat up, gasping and already nearing fully awake. Blankets covered him and he pushed them off and got to his feet. One of his knees buckled momentarily, but despite that he was already halfway to the door when Gaius stopped him.

"Sire! Where are you going? You shouldn't be on your feet so soon after being injured."

Arthur spun around to face the old man and, though he was doing a good job of disguising it, the king could see the anxiety and apprehension in his eyes. Arthur would bet anything that Gaius knew Merlin's secret and was now aware that he did, too.

"I need to find Merlin," Arthur replied. He was tired of secrets and hiding things and he was hardly in the mood to pretend that he wasn't desperate for some answers to his million questions. His brain had been racing while he was unconscious and now he knew exactly what he was going to do.

"Sire," Gaius said, "you really should rest, your injuries are—"

"What injuries, Gaius?" Arthur asked angrily, cutting him off. The physician was just trying to stop him from finding Merlin, and he'd had enough of people manipulating him. Arthur was still shirtless and to prove his point he spun in a circle. "There's not a scratch on me. I feel healthier than I have in a long time and you know it."

Gaius opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it upon realizing that he had nothing to say.

Arthur sighed. He really didn't want to be angry at Gaius or anyone. Mostly he was just frustrated with himself for being _so_ oblivious for so long. "Gaius…" he began, "I know." The old man stiffened. "And I believe you know, too."

Gaius tried to protest, but Arthur wouldn't let him. "I'm sick of the lies, Gaius, and nothing you say will convince me that Merlin isn't a sorcerer." The physician's eyes widened slightly. Arthur nodded his head, his suspicions confirmed. "And judging by your reaction," he continued, "you are perfectly aware, and probably have been for some time now, that Merlin has been practicing magic."

"Arthur, Merlin isn't," Gaius started again, but at the look on Arthur's face he stopped.

"Please don't lie to me, Gaius," Arthur said, sadness that everyone seemed to be lying to him about one thing or another and that they thought he was so stupid coloring his tone some. "I saw Merlin heal me, and don't say that I was hallucinating, either." Arthur massaged his forehead because of the pain that was building up there. He just felt so confused. "That's why I need to find Merlin. We have a lot to talk about."

Arthur was about to say something else, but his eyes suddenly caught on an object he had seen before. It was that necklace that he knew in the core of his being had, somehow, hurt Merlin. At first Arthur just felt uncontrollable anger, but then he realized it was broken. Concern filled him and Arthur instinctively knew that Merlin was in trouble.

Arthur, now beginning to panic, turned on the physician. "Gaius, I _need_ to know where Merlin is right now!"

But for whatever reason, Gaius didn't seem to quite see the panic, or perhaps he just mistook it for anger. "Sire, you know I have always been loyal to you, but if it's the choice between you and Merlin I will never fail to choose him. Merlin is like a son to me."

At Gaius' words Arthur calmed slightly and understanding and guilt washed through him. Gaius was being so difficult because he was afraid for Merlin. Thinking about it now, Arthur didn't doubt that it had been hard all these years living with such split loyalty.

The king ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry Gaius that I ever gave you reason to think that I'd hurt Merlin," he said sincerely. "And I know I've been oblivious to a great many things, but don't think I haven't noticed how Merlin had stayed at my side regardless of danger or even what I had ordered him to do over all these years." Arthur chuckled grimly. "In fact, to this day Merlin is one of the few people left who haven't betrayed me. Sure, he rarely ever obeys any of my commands and is the most insolent person I've ever met, but…." Arthur trailed off. The king then shook his head to clear his thoughts and went on, "The point is, Gaius," he realized that the old man had a few tears welling up in his eyes, "that I know that wouldn't find a better friend if I searched the ends of the earth for one."

Arthur walked over and picked up the broken necklace that felt oddly warm and tingly. "Merlin, years ago when we hardly even knew each other, endured torture for me." He looked back at Gaius, whose eyes were pained from the memory. "So if you think I could ever hurt Merlin after everything he has done for me—and I probably don't even know it all—then you don't know me."

Arthur dropped the necklace and headed for the door, calling over his shoulder as he did so, "I'll find Merlin, with or without your help. I have a lot of questions and, depending on his answers, he will either be fired and provided with someplace nice in Camelot to live comfortably, or, if he answers the way I hope he will, he'll be fired…" he reached the door and glanced at the weary guardian, whose face was a mix of emotions, "and greatly promoted."

"You would promote a sorcerer?" Gaius asked with such hope in his voice. Arthur merely nodded. Gaius sighed. "Then, sire, you might find Merlin by the lake. He goes there whenever he's unhappy or confused. I'd imagine he's both right now."

Arthur gave Gaius a grateful look and then left.

* * *

As Arthur ran to the lake a thousand questions, concerns, and random thoughts flew through his head. _Why did Merlin go to this place when he was unhappy, and how often did he feel that way? What would Merlin say to him? Maybe Merlin was angry at him for taking so long to notice. Was Merlin even there or had he left Camelot entirely? _

And roughly every ten seconds Arthur's mind would drift back to his questions about Merlin's magic. _How long has he been practicing it? Why didn't he tell me? What was he using it for and why did he start learning in the first place? Did he honestly not tell me because he thought I'd kill him? _

And the thousand, million worries continued to pester Arthur relentlessly until he finally reached that shining pool of water.

The first thing Arthur noticed was how utterly beautiful the lake was. The second thing was that Merlin was nowhere in sight. But it was the third thing which caught his eye that was the most disturbing and grabbed his full attention.

Arthur looked down into the water that reflected so much—the moon, the stars, the nearby trees and bushes—and saw that the most shallow parts at his feet had stopped being clear and reflecting. This water didn't look silver in the moonlight; instead, it seemed almost black. If there was one thing Arthur knew about water, other than one needed it to live, it was that it appeared black during the night only when blood stained it.

And, sure enough, as Arthur gazed at the ground beneath him, he saw unmistakable traces of blood. Merlin's blood.

"Merlin!" He yelled, spinning around in the hopes that he'd glimpse him. Perhaps it wasn't Merlin's blood, perhaps something bad hadn't happened to him, perhaps—

Arthur's thoughts were cut off by a low groan somewhere to his left. He dashed to the spot and for a moment he hoped it was Merlin, mostly unconscious but, other than that, completely and totally fine. But as Arthur's turned his gaze to the body on the ground he came to the conclusion that today was really not his day, that wishing for something good to happen was just a waste of energy. Because the face he saw when he looked down at the body was not Merlin's. In fact, it wasn't even a face he recognized.

The man's whole chest was burnt and it had to have been quite painful, but, to Arthur's surprise, the man opened his eyes and chuckled. "If you're looking for that little sorcerer, then, you're going to be searching for a very, very long time." He coughed harshly, but his face continued to grin as if it was his birthday.

Whatever ounce of pity Arthur had felt for this man whilst he was unsure of who he was or why he was here instantly melted into white, hot rage. He grabbed the injured man and pulled him close enough so the rat had no choice but to look at Arthur. "What have you done with Merlin!" he roared.

The man merely chuckled his grating chuckle once more. Swiftly, Arthur let go of him and stood up. Then, before the man had time to process what was happening, Arthur brought his booted foot down on his crispy chest.

The man howled in agony and tried to squirm away out from the terrible pressure being exerted on him.

After ten seconds, Arthur lifted his foot. "Tell me what you know about Merlin or you're going to have a permanent imprint on your chest in the form of my boot."

"All right, all right!" the man cried.

Arthur knelt down next to him once more. "Good." Though his voice was slightly calmer, the anxiety and rage inside him was anything but.

"The sorcerer is gone," the smelly villain panted. "The men I work with took him."

Images of Merlin being captured, hurt and bound burned through Arthur's mind and the panic consuming him gained another inch on his frail sanity. "Why?" the king growled. Arthur's hands twitched and spasmed, reacting to his desire to cause this scrawny man even more pain.

"Because the witch told us to!" the man shrieked out.

Arthur's hands stilled and his face went blank. "Morgana? She sent you here?" his voice had taken on a deathly calm quality.

The man shook his head vigorously. "No, not her." Suddenly the fear vanished from his face and he began to chuckle darkly as only true villains could. "Someone far worse. She makes Morgana look like a tame house cat. Compared to her, Morgana doesn't know the first thing about causing pain, about making her enemies suffer." His cruel laugh grew louder.

Arthur fumbled around him and found a rock which he promptly dug into the man's chest. And though his face contorted in pain, he continued to laugh as if he was the happiest man alive.

"What is she going to do with Merlin? Why does she want him?" Arthur yelled over the demented man's chuckles.

The man stopped chortling and gazed up at Arthur seriously. His eyes were deranged. "Oh, King Arthur, you have no idea," he said merrily. "You see, she doesn't want his power or to use him. All she wants is to make him suffer. Apparently, he wronged her years ago and now she is determined to cause him more pain than any other living being has ever had to endure."

Arthur grabbed him again, he had finally lost all control over his anger; everything in his vision was red. "Which way did they go?"

"Towards the Border." He began to laugh again. "But it won't matter even if you start out this very minute."

"Why not?" Arthur roared, only refraining from beating this man to death because he had important information.

"Because," the man said, "even though she told us she was going to make his agony last a very, very long time, a few hours in her hands would make any man, regardless of how powerful he was, completely and utterly lose his mind." He threw his head back and his laugh echoed through the whole forest. "By the time you reach him there won't be anything of the man you call your friend left."

* * *

I know, everyone wanted Arthur and Merlin to get a chance to talk, but that was so _not_ in my plan. In order for everything I've been working towards in this series to actually happen, Merlin can't talk with Arthur right away. I know, I'm sorry. I want them to sit down and have a nice chat, too.

Thank you so much for sticking with this, everyone. Believe me, I have no intention of abandoning this story. Hopefully the next chapter flows easier. Please review.


	5. Loyalty to Merlin

I have been begging myself to update for months, but I have not be able to. I am so, so, so, so incredibly sorry for the long wait. But please believe me when I say that I wrote literally as often as I could. Also, this was written in stops and starts over a long period of time and I didn't pre-read it for mistakes, so it might be a little rough.

* * *

Arthur burst into the physician's chambers. "Gaius! Gaius!" He called. "Merlin's in trouble!"

The old man closed the book he was reading and stood up. "What did you mean? What has happened?" he asked, his face crinkled in concern.

Arthur explained it as fast as he could, pacing frantically as he did so. His mind was whirring and churning so fast it was actually making him queasy and every couple of seconds an image of Merlin suffering and crying out in pain flashed unbidden in his head.

"And where is the man now?" Gaius asked and any idiot would have been able to see how difficult it was for the old man to hold himself together.

"Leon is questioning him right as we speak," Arthur answered. That mercenary's words still rang in his ears so loudly it was almost deafening. Suddenly Arthur's eyes landed upon the sight of Merlin's empty and vacant room and in a fit of anger the king spun around, grabbed a nearby stool and threw it at the wall where it smashed and clattered to the ground in pieces.

Absolute silence filled the room for a moment as both Arthur and Gaius stared at the remains of the stool. Arthur didn't usually react to his own anger so violently, but this was hardly a normal situation. If this had been any other time he would have felt guilty for destroying something that belonged to Gaius, but right now he couldn't about anything but his friend who was probably being tortured at that very moment.

A memory from years ago of Merlin screaming in agony as Arcturus flogged him assaulted Arthur's mind and he lashed out, kicking the table and sending many items—some of which were glass or clay and easily breakable—falling to floor. Arthur then bent over the table, hitting it several times with his right fist, which did absolutely nothing to the wood, before burying his head in his hands.

After a few seconds Arthur gazed up at Gaius who looked thoroughly shocked, though whether it was about Arthur's violence or the news about Merlin he didn't know, and said in a shaky voice, "I promise you, Gaius," he straightened up and ran his hands through his hair, "I will find Merlin and I will bring him back. And any damage," he gestured at the room around them, "that I cause I will most certainly pay for in full, but do not ask me to calm down, do not ask me to control myself because I cannot—" his voice caught and he shook his head, "I _will_ not. Until Merlin is safe, healthy and here, where he belongs, don't expect me to act rationally. Whoever captured Merlin took my sanity and reason with him."

Gaius glanced around the room, an almost lost expression on his face, and then slowly sat down on a chair. "Merlin has…angered people before, but…" his strained voice trailed off. The old man looked so small and weary. "Usually it's Merlin who saves _others_ from those who want them dead, but this is different."

Arthur was taken aback by the despair in the physician's voice. "Merlin is strong, Gaius, a lot stronger than I ever knew. I'm sure he'll be fine. We'll bring him home in one piece." Unfortunately it wasn't only Gaius who needed reassuring and Arthur wished more than anything that he could convince himself that his last statement was true. "He'll be fine."

Gaius turned his hopeless gaze on him. "Over the years, Arthur, I have watched Merlin nearly destroy himself time and time again, usually to save your hide. You have no idea what he has been through," Gaius said accusingly with increasing anger in his tone, "or how he has suffered. Every threat he has faced, every loved one he has lost, every _single_ time you or someone else has called magic evil and corrupt, and every time he has stuck out his neck and risked his life for some ungrateful person who would probably never thank him, a little bit more of Merlin dies. Over and over again Merlin has sacrificed his own wellbeing for others." Gaius stood up sharply. "Hardly a month ago, Merlin chose to go through every second of every day in unbearable agony because he couldn't stand the thought that his magic might hurt you!"

Gaius walked over to him, practically yelling in Arthur's face. "And you're telling me that after all the pain he has suffered, all he has sacrificed, and now believing that it was for nothing because you know his secret, that Merlin will be okay in the hands of a powerful witch, whom we have never even heard of, and who wants more than anything to cause him more torment than anyone has ever known?"

* * *

Aleric, the leader of the group, jumped off his horse, pulling Merlin with him. Merlin crashed to the ground, his left shoulder taking nearly all of the impact. But before he even had a chance to fully register the pain there, Aleric pulled him up again and another burly mercenary dragged him over to a tree.

Merlin couldn't stop himself from crying out as Aleric grabbed his wrists and jerked them above his head, an action which not only greatly irritated the burnt skin from the brand, but also jostled the arrow wound in his right shoulder and the recently acquired bruising on his left. Then, with the help of the other mercenary, Aleric hoisted Merlin up and tied him to a trunk of the tree, roughly half a foot off the ground.

"Don't go anywhere," Aleric said and the other man laughed rather gleefully.

As Merlin hung there, watching the two of them walk off towards the campfire that was being made probably thirty feet away, he thought of nothing, nothing at all. His arms already ached, his left shoulder throbbed while his right burned where he had been shot, and his wrist felt as if it was on fire and the mark the brand had made tried to sear itself into his very soul—yet despite all that Merlin didn't have any thoughts racing through his head. There weren't any emotions running rampant, there weren't any hopes that he might be rescued flickering in his heart, and even the fears and worries he had been living with all his life—that his magic might be discovered, that someone would hurt him because of who he was—were gone.

The already cold night turned nearly freezing, but Merlin's body was too far away from the fire to feel even a hint of its warmth. Merlin just hung there during the few hours left before dawn as his whole upper body began to ache more and more. But he didn't care. There wasn't enough left in him to care. Arthur was going to die. Merlin's only remaining hope was that whoever wanted him would kill him before Arthur had a chance to die saving his worthless hide.

Darkness descended over Merlin's mind and heart. Everything that he once was began to fade away. And his magic, which had already retreated far into his subconscious, started to suffocate. Because without Merlin's hope, without his joy and a reason to live, his magic had nothing to sustain it. Merlin's magic could endure many things, but in order to live it needed his hope, something the warlock was sorely lacking.

* * *

Arthur stared at Gaius, shocked and horrified at what he had heard. And also, ashamed. He'd had no clue, no idea of what Merlin had gone through. When he had overheard that conversation a month ago between Gaius and Merlin, he had hardly understood anything. Merlin had said he was different from everyone else, Gaius had said he was in great pain, and they had both mentioned that the servant had faced a myriad of dangers all to save Arthur.

None of those things had made sense at the time. Now, standing in a castle that was woefully empty of a cheery manservant, Arthur understood it all. He had been tormented by so _many_ questions over the last month. How was Merlin different? Why was he suffering so greatly and why was he putting up with it? What could possibly be so bad that even the Druids couldn't help him? How had he supposedly saved his life dozens of times in the past when he couldn't even swing a sword properly? What on earth was going on?

These questions had been tormenting Arthur since the day of Merlin and Gaius' fight. If this were any other situation he would have immediately sought out the answers to his queries relentlessly until his curiosity was satisfied. But Merlin's words had haunted his every thought during the day and possessed his dreams at night.

Merlin had said that everything he had ever done, and all the pain that both he had Gaius had mentioned several times, had been for _him_. All the anger and sadness and hurt that Arthur had overheard in their conversation was because of him.

Arthur had felt many strong emotions in his life—hatred for the man who had killed his father, sadness and grief for all the people he had lost, anger beyond hate for Arcturus when he had tortured Merlin, love and supreme joy upon merely seeing Gwen, pride during battles when he witnessed the skill and bravery of his knights—but the unfathomable loathing he felt for himself upon hearing what the king knew was _only _the tip of the iceberg of all the pain and misery Merlin had been through was quite possibly the fiercest, most powerful emotion Arthur had ever known. Every time Arthur had seen Merlin during the last month, all consuming guilt and a terrible pain in his chest had hit him like a wave of magic—something he encountered rather frequently.

Arthur remembered when he had first felt this strange pain years ago when Merlin had drunk that dreaded poisoned wine and then collapsed. At the time Arthur had assumed he was reacting to something he had eaten or coming down with an illness. But as Arthur grew closer and closer to Merlin he began to realize that the pain—which stabbed like a hundred burning, sharp needles—was not in response to some physical ailment, but rather to the idea, thought, sight, or even the merest suggestion of Merlin hurting.

Arthur didn't know why or even how, but he did know that Merlin was suffering greatly just for his sake. The king had wanted to do something about it, but the revulsion and overwhelming nausea he felt in his stomach whenever Merlin so much as looked at him made it nearly impossible to speak, let alone pry information out of his tightlipped manservant.

More than once Arthur had attempted to get the truth out of Merlin, but each time he had failed miserably as the guilt crashed down on him, turning his speech into utter nonsense. He had delegated most of Merlin's chores to other servants and tried to put as little pressure as possible on him, but he was incapable of anything beyond that.

Should someone attack Merlin or should he get poisoned Arthur would know instantly what to do. He would kill Merlin's attacker and find the antidote, but…Arthur hadn't the faintest idea of what to do if the thing that was causing his friend pain was himself. So Arthur had kept his distance from the boy, while the king wracked his brain for answers it couldn't give him.

But now Arthur wished he had done something—anything. Now Merlin was on his way to a witch who wanted to torture and kill him and, according to Gaius, even if his body survived that his mind might not

In his friendship with Merlin, in his treatment of magic, and in dealing with he had overheard that fateful day, Arthur had _royally_ screwed up. And now it was up to him to put things right.

King Arthur Pendragon shook off all his shame and guilt—there would be time enough for that later—and lifted his head. "It doesn't matter," he stated bluntly.

Surprise and anger flashed in Gaius' eyes. "'It doesn't matter?'"

"Nope," Arthur said firmly. "I don't care what Merlin has been through, I don't care what any power on this earth plans on doing to him, I _will _bring him back and I _will_ do whatever it takes to make him the cheery, happy Merlin that we all know. " Arthur walked over to the table and picked up the broken necklace he had seen Merlin wearing. "I have let Merlin down every day since I first met him," as he spoke he began clenching the fist that held the necklace tighter and tighter until his own short fingernails were digging into his palm, "I've never even given him a reason to trust me. I have failed him for the last six years, but not anymore." Arthur glanced over at Merlin's empty room. "I promise you Gaius, I will bring him back with his mind in one piece."

And Arthur meant it, too. If he couldn't do this, if he couldn't save friend from current dangers and past pains then he was unfit to rule. If he couldn't save Merlin, if his friend died or went insane, then Arthur would abdicate his throne and leave Camelot forever. It wasn't really a matter of punishing himself; he just knew that he didn't have the strength to be king without Merlin at his side.

* * *

Merlin could see dawn approaching on the horizon, not that he cared. Everything from his shoulders up ached profusely and had gone quite numb. Usually, in Merlin's experience, one could either be numb or in pain, but it was impossible to be both. But right now, the burning and stretching-to-the-point-of-breaking feeling was too intense for words while, at the same time, an eerie and unpleasant numbness encompassed every inch of his arms, hands, fingers, and shoulders.

Merlin supposed that he should be grateful for the pain, though, because it seemed to be the only thing tying him to reality. He could no longer feel his magic. It seemed as though he was drowning in despair, but the only thing keeping him afloat was the cold, sharp, pain that refused to be ignored. But though Merlin knew he should be glad that there was something keeping him in the world of the living, he could only hate it for welding him to life. There was nothing left for him, nothing at all except pain. And the longer he stayed here, the day of Arthur's death would keep drawing nearer and nearer. And Merlin didn't want to stick around for that.

But the pain wouldn't leave Merlin alone.

For the first time in hours Merlin heard a sound near him and he lifted his head just a fraction to see Aleric and the other man heading towards him.

"Sleep well?" Aleric asked, chuckling slightly as he did so. He gazed upwards at Merlin's tied hands. "No, I don't suppose you did."

Merlin just looked at him; he didn't say anything or even react to the mercenary's words. He was dead inside.

Aleric frowned. He grabbed Merlin's injured shoulder and squeezed, causing the warlock to groan as the horrible pain spiked. "You're not ignoring me, are you?" Aleric asked, "because I really hate it when people don't pay attention to me. It's rude, and, as I told my nephew when I looked after him last spring, rude people get punished."

Merlin had so little left in him; he was almost hollow. But what little energy he had left he directed in anger at this man. If it hadn't been for Aleric's ambush yesterday, Arthur would never have discovered his magic. This man had tried to kill Arthur, and for that reason alone Merlin wasn't going to play his games.

When Merlin didn't respond at all to Aleric, the mercenary's slightly amused expression turned angry and, before the former manservant had even a second to react, he punched him solidly in the gut. Merlin was still gasping from the pain when Aleric threw his second and third punch.

Tears stung at Merlin's eyes and his stomach burned and throbbed.

Aleric took a step back and let his eyes survey Merlin for a moment, and then he broke out in a fit of laughter. "Normally I'd teach someone like you a lesson," he said, still chortling, "after all, there's good fun in breaking a man's spirit. But, seeing how I know what excruciating fate awaits you when we reach my employer, I think I can let your impudence slide this time, especially since nothing I can do could even compare to the agony she can inflict on you." He laughed again, shaking his head.

Then, when Aleric had recovered, he grinned and delivered a swift and unexpected hit to Merlin's arrow wound and said to his associate over the warlock's screams, "Cut him down. We have a long way to go; I'd rather not waste any time."

* * *

Arthur tapped his feet on the floor impatiently. As soon as Arthur had entered the castle a few hours ago, he had ordered several servants to tell the knights to prepare to ride out at dawn. Arthur had wanted nothing more than to chase after Merlin's captors right away, but if he was going to have any hope of saving his friend then he needed his knights and provisions, which meant several hours of waiting while servants packed everything necessary to go on a big rescue mission.

Arthur wished Gaius would say something—even their arguing was a thousand times better than having nothing to distract him from his thoughts of all the horrible things that Merlin could be enduring while he sat on his ass uselessly—but neither of them had spoken a word to each other since the king had made his promise two hours ago.

Finally, however, Arthur's knights congregated in Gaius' chambers, ready to go on a quest to rescue Merlin. More than anything, Arthur wanted to leave this very second to chase down the bastards that had captured his friend. He couldn't stand the thought that every moment he wasted could be another moment in which the man he would give his life for in a heartbeat was being tortured. But there was something he had to do first before he or anyone else could set out. Arthur might be greatly confused about a dizzying number of things and he might have enough questions bombarding his mind to give him a headache, but he knew where he stood and what he believed, unfortunately, he was unable to say the same for his men. He needed to know first; otherwise he could be saving Merlin from one danger only to throw him into another.

Arthur addressed his trusted knights-namely Leon, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan- and tried not to let his nervousness show. He would ride out bravely to face all kinds of dangers and terrifying ordeals, but at this very moment he was gambling with Merlin's friendships, his home and livelihood, and his life and he was afraid. Arthur was finally beginning to realize why Merlin had kept his secret for so long.

"As you know," Arthur began, but paused when he saw Gwen enter the room and smiled slightly, perhaps out of all of them Gwen deserved to know the most. After all, Gwen had been friends with Merlin before any of them. "Merlin has been captured," Arthur continued, "by some men working for a witch with a vendetta against him. And it is our job to rescue him before any harm can be done to him. However," Arthur sucked in a large breath—moment of truth, "I don't want a single person ride with me on this quest unless he is completely willing to do so."

Gwaine frowned slightly. "I'm actually insulted, Arthur, that you would ever consider the impossibility that even one man here wouldn't give his life for Merlin in the blink of an eye." The others huffed in agreement. "Obviously you don't know your men very well at all. I, for one, won't let anything stop me from bringing Merlin back to Camelot, where he belongs."

Though Gwaine's unwavering loyalty was encouraging, it wasn't enough to assure Arthur. Right now the most important matter in existence Arthur was the safety of his best friend whom he knew in his heart he had failed and wronged greatly every day since he had ever met him. He would never be able to forgive himself if Merlin didn't survive this. Or if he couldn't convince Merlin's loved ones to accept him.

Instead of looking at his men, he gazed at his beautiful wife to give him courage as he spoke. "You men have been through dozens of harrowing and dangerous experiences over the years and I have asked much of you. But right now I'm asking you to fight, not some monster or foe of this world, but everything you have ever believed in and seen to be true."

"What are you saying, sire?" Leon asked rather apprehensively.

"I'm asking you to disregard every order and command I have ever given you." Arthur inhaled deeply. "Yesterday, as you all know, we were attacked in the woods, but what you don't know is that the real reason we all escaped with our lives is…Merlin."

The knights all glanced at each other in confusion. Out of all of them Gwaine seemed the least surprise. The partially recovered alcoholic grinned and exclaimed, "Good 'ole Merlin! I mean, he might look weak and skinny, but that's it. He's many things, but useless isn't one of them. It's a shame I missed it. What did he do?"

For a moment Arthur wondered if Gwaine knew Merlin's secret, but then he dismissed the thought. Gwaine wouldn't be smiling right now if he knew; he'd be nervous for his friend and likely trying to change the conversation. Still, though, Gwaine's enthusiasm and faith bothered the Pendragon more than he would like to admit. If someone had told him that Merlin had saved their lives, he would have laughed, made some cruel remark about the state of his brain, and asked condescendingly whoever had told him such a hilarious joke if he or she were mistaken. Arthur had never believed in Merlin the way Gwaine did and he had known the boy for far longer. Arthur was beginning to understand why Merlin hadn't told anyone because if Arthur, his best friend for years couldn't be trusted to accept him, then how could anyone else?

"Yes, how did Merlin save us?" Percival asked, his usually dead-pan voice sparkling with curiosity.

Arthur turned his gaze on Gwen for a moment to give him strength and then said, "Merlin saved us….with magic."

There was absolute silence. First there was confusion, then pride, then anger, and then sorrow. Arthur watched as they all came to the conclusion that they'd have to kill Merlin.

Gwaine shook his head angrily. "I don't care what anyone says about magic, if Merlin used magic it must have been for a good reason, because-be—" Gwaine stuttered anxiously, glancing around at everyone frantically, fear evident on his face. "Merlin would never betray us," he walked closer to Arthur, "You know Merlin would-could never do anything to harm…" he trailed off, mistaking the pained look on Arthur's face as him condemning Merlin.

Arthur wanted to open his mouth and tell Gwaine that he was already on Merlin's side and they were going to rescue him regardless of magic, but a lump the size of a pumpkin was lodged in the king's throat and he couldn't speak for the life of him. Gwaine hadn't felt betrayed, he hadn't turned on Merlin. Gwaine had instantly rose up in defense for Merlin, instead of even considering that the servant might have fooled them all. And it was that, Gwaine's incredible loyalty and trust in Merlin without even a second's hesitation that had muted Arthur. _That should have been me,_ Arthur thought, _I should have believed in Merlin from the start. _ Unfortunately, Arthur clearly remembered the disbelief and mistrust that had filled him as he saw Merlin's eyes turn gold.

"I won't let you kill him," Gwaine backed away, unaware of the internal battle within Arthur to regain control of his speech, "I don't care what oaths I've made, I'm not going to let you burn Merlin. But you're not going to, are you?" Gwiane asked accusingly. "You summoned us all here to say that we're going to let that witch torture him to death! Didn't you? Some friend you are, Arthur Pendragon." Gwaine swallowed audibly and then drew his sword.

Leon quickly drew his sword and Elyan followed suit, if a bit hesitantly. Percival looked unsure, but took a step towards Gwaine, though whether it was to restrain or defend him Arthur didn't know.

"Treason or not, I am not willing to abandon Merlin when he's the best friend I've ever had and he just saved our lives." Gwaine started backing towards the door in response to eon tensing up at the word 'treason'.

Arthur finally managed to overcome the obstruction in his throat and said, "It's okay, Leon, Eylan. Put away your swords." He turned to Gwaine. "A minute ago you accused me of not knowing you well. Now it seems that the tides have reversed. Do you honestly believe that I could ever burn Merlin or forsake him to such a fate as the one he is facing now? Perhaps it is you, Gwaine, who has misjudged _me_."

Gwaine blinked rapidly and his face scrunched in confusion and hope. "Then….we're going to save Merlin?"

"Of course we are," Arthur replied. "Didn't you hear what I said when you first came in?" Arthur closed his eyes for a moment. Though he sounded confident this was all so new for him and he was so very worried that he could hardly concentrate. "Yesterday I was fatally shot with an arrow—" Arthur heard Gwen gasp and he held out his hand for her and the next moment she was in his arms. "And as I lay there dying," the king continued, "Merlin healed me. He risked me discovering his secret just to save me. And that's why I'm telling you all this. The people who attacked us took Merlin and now I need as many men as possible to bring him back. But you four men are the only knights that could accept and understand Merlin knowing that he not only used magic once, but has many times in the past and likely will again. I need men I can trust to help Merlin and who won't stab him in the back the first chance they get."

"Wait," interrupted Gwaine, "So you know that Merlin has magic and you don't care? The son of Uther Pendragon doesn't mind?" Gwaine asked incredulously and Arthur was so offended, partially because he knew there was some truth to what he was saying, that he didn't hear the pure hope and joy in his voice.

"I," Arthur said, speaking very slowly and calmly only because he was holding on to Gwen, "am not my father and I will never be my father. Whatever mistakes I have made in the past or how many times I have let him down, from this moment onward I pledge my loyalty and life to Merlin. I will not turn my back on the people I love like Uther did. I will get Merlin back no matter what, but I could use the help of my most trusted knights and personal friends. But only if none of the rest of you care about the magic either."

Leon took a step forward. "My place is at your side, sire. And any man who saved your life I owe an eternal debt to, and, if as you say, he has been using magic for years now, perhaps I owe him much more than I realize. Merlin has always been loyal to you, so I shall be loyal to him."

"Magic or not Merlin doesn't deserve to be tortured to death," Elyan stated sincerely, "he's a good man."

Percival smiled. "We're knights, it's our job to save him. At your command, sire."

Then Gwaine was the only one left. He still stood by the door with his sword in his hand, though, with every passing second it lowered a little more. "Of course I'll help Merlin," he said, as he put way his weapon, "but you should know, Arthur, that if you turn on him for a second then you'll wake up in a ditch somewhere."

Leon obviously bristled and opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur raised his hand top stop him. "If I betray Merlin," Arthur replied, "then you have my permission to exactly that."

The king gazed at his queen. "Guinevere, you have been friends with Merlin longer than anyone, but I know this must be hard for you. You've lost so much to magic, but I promise that Merlin is different from the others we've seen. He—"

Gwen put a finger on his lips. "I may have been fooled in the past, but even I know that Merlin couldn't harm any of us."

Arthur sighed in relief. "Well…." he said, smiling a bit, "can we stop wasting time already and reclaim our friend?" he asked.

Just then a servant entered the room. "The horses and provision are ready, sire."

Arthur inwardly relaxed some. Things were going smoother than he had expected. Perhaps fate was with them.

* * *

Once again, so sorry. I can't guarantee that I'll update sooner this time, I really wish I could. But I can promise that I'll update as soon as possible, though, I do have other stories I have to attend to as well, and that I'll never abandon this story. Also, because I left this story, unwillingly, for so long, I'm going to give you some spoilers for what should be in the next update.

1. An old friend of Merlin's will make an appearance.

2. There will probably be at least some whump.

3. Gwaine and Arthur conversing/bonding.

4. We'll likely see who this "employer" is.

5. And a certain mystical creature will assist the knights in saving our beloved Merlin.

I hope that makes up some for any waiting in the past, present, and future. As always, thank you so much for your support and kind reviews, it means the world to me. Trust me, I don't want to update so dang badly because *I* need to know how it ends. I really just want to tell you wonderful people a story. Please review.


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